


Death of the Party

by Robin Hood (kjack89)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, M/M, Murder Mystery, Suspense, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-04-13 16:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14116218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/Robin%20Hood
Summary: “Murder mystery?” Rafael repeated, glaring at him. “You’ve got to bekiddingme, Sonny.”“It won’t be that bad,” Sonny assured him. “It’ll mostly just be at dinner the first night, where we get to find out all the details about whoever was murdered, the different roles that people are playing, and so on.”“Oh goody,” Rafael said dryly. “Dinner theater.”Or, Rafael and Sonny take a trip upstate for a long weekend and get far more than they bargained for.





	1. Dinner Theater

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I've been wanting to write for a really long time, and I've finally started on it. This is a WIP, and I can't guarantee how often I'll be able to update, but my goal is to take no longer than two weeks between updates.
> 
> Much thanks and love to AHF for the beta and being my general cheerleader during all of this.
> 
> Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

“Hey Rafi?”

Sonny’s voice was casual — too casual — and Rafael glanced up from the case file he was annotating to frown slightly at his boyfriend sitting at the opposite end of the couch in their apartment. “What do you want?” he asked.

Sonny’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you assume I want something?” he asked.

Rafael set his pen down in the crease of the case file and stretched. “For starters, you’re using your ‘I want something’ voice,” he said, his own voice pitched low and full of amusement. Sonny scowled but didn’t deny it, and Rafael added, “And additionally, you sat down and started giving me a foot massage without me having to ask, so…”

He wiggled his toes and Sonny shoved his feet off of his lap. “What, I can’t just do something nice for my boyfriend because I feel like it?” he asked.

“You certainly _can_ ,” Rafael returned calmly. “But you wouldn’t.”

He met Sonny’s gaze evenly, and they stared each other down for a few moments before Sonny blinked and looked away. “Fine,” he grumbled, “but you gotta keep an open mind, alright?”

Rafael smirked in a self-satisfied way and closed the case file, tossing it aside on to the coffee table. “Fine,” he said. “Hit me.”

“Ok, so, you know how it’s our anniversary this weekend?”

“One year,” Rafael mused. “Amanda and Fin are going to both owe me money.”

Sonny glared at him. “You _bet_ on our relationship?”

“What, you didn’t?” Rafael asked, grinning. “Easiest 50 bucks I’m ever going to make. After all, I knew we were going to make it.” He raised an eyebrow at Sonny. “Didn’t you?”

Sonny’s glare deepened. “Don’t even try to turn something this ridiculous into something romantic,” he said sourly, though his expression softened. “But I am glad to know you thought we’d make it a year together.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Right, so, our anniversary, and I don’t know if you have anything planned, but you know that we have a three day weekend.”

Now Rafael looked almost intrigued. “Both of us?” he asked. “How’d you manage to wrangle that?”

Sonny waved a dismissive hand. “I’m gonna be picking up Amanda’s overtime shifts for a month, but what can I say, for you, it’s worth it.”

“Now who’s the one trying to turn something ridiculous into something romantic?” Rafael asked, amused.

Sonny rolled his eyes. “Ok, so, anyway, do you remember my friend Jason from law school?”

Rafael blinked, clearly not expecting the conversation to turn in that direction. “I think it’s cute that you think I would remember any of your friends from law school whom I charitably met, what, once?”

“A handful of times,” Sonny corrected, ignoring Rafael’s broader point. “So Jason just inherited this huge old place up in the Adirondacks, and he’s opening it up as a bed and breakfast.”

“How enterprising of him,” Rafael said mildly. Sonny was silent, and looking at him expectantly, and Rafael sighed heavily. “Why do I have a feeling that this is somehow going to tie in to our upcoming anniversary weekend?”

Sonny fidgeted. “He’s having a soft opening,” he started, his tone already turning wheedling.

“No.”

“It’s this weekend—”

“No.”

“I booked us the honeymoon suite.”

Rafael sighed again. “You didn’t,” he said exasperatedly.

Sonny chewed on his lower lip, his eyes wide, pleading, and Rafael knew already he was going to cave eventually. He just wanted to see how far Sonny would go to sweeten the deal. “Think about it, Raf,” he said eagerly. “A whole weekend away, up in the mountains, just the two of us. It’ll be romantic.”

“The beach in Miami would be romantic,” Rafael told him dryly. “A cabin in the woods sounds like it’s going to be a tick-infested horror film.”

“More like a mansion in a lightly wooded section of the mountains on a bluff overlooking a lake,” Sonny said, laughing. “C’mon, Raf, it’ll be great.”

Rafael rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said grumpily, “but I will absolutely not be hiking or spending any more time than necessary outdoors, is that understood?”

“Considering there’s still snow on the ground, I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Sonny told him, beaming. “Thank you. We’re gonna have a great time, I promise.”

Rafael made a skeptical noise and reached for the case file. “And you’re paying me back with blowjobs,” he informed Sonny, who rolled his eyes, still grinning. “Plural. Many. Pretty much whenever I demand one.”

“Have I ever _not_ given you a blowjob when you wanted one?” Sonny asked, and Rafael considered it for a moment while Sonny laughed. “Exactly my point.” He hesitated. “Oh, uh, by the way, there’s something else.”

“Oh?” Rafael said, not looking up from the case file. Sonny fidgeted again and now Rafael did look up, a crease furrowing his brow. “What is it?”

“Well…” Sonny rubbed the back of his neck. “So obviously there’s a lot of B&Bs out that way, and Jason wanted to do something fun and different to make his stand out, you know?”

Rafael’s eyes narrowed. “Something different?” he repeated.

Sonny couldn’t seem to meet his eyes as he barreled onward. “So he’s decided to try out some different theme weekends to try and draw in different crowds, like one focusing on wine tasting, or a singles weekend, or—”

“Please just skip to whatever fresh hell awaits me,” Rafael sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Sonny muttered something incomprehensible and Rafael opened one eye to glare at him. “Care to repeat that in a volume I can actually hear?”

“Murder mystery weekend,” Sonny repeated, blushing slightly as if anticipating Rafael’s reaction.

He wasn’t disappointed. “Murder mystery?” Rafael repeated, glaring at him. “You’ve got to be _kidding_ me, Sonny.”

“It won’t be that bad,” Sonny assured him. “It’ll mostly just be at dinner the first night, where we get to find out all the details about whoever was murdered, the different roles that people are playing, and so on.”

“Oh goody,” Rafael said dryly. “Dinner theater.”

The corners of Sonny’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, but it’s dinner theater with audience participation.”

Rafael stared at him. “Your tone of voice seems to indicate that you think that somehow makes it _better_ , in which case, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Sonny just laughed and swooped down to kiss Rafael’s cheek. “C’mon, Raf, don’t be like that,” he said. “It’ll be fun.” Rafael gave him a skeptical look and Sonny laughed again before amending, “At the very least, you’ll have a great story to tell everyone.”

“Fine,” Rafael sighed after a long moment, smiling slightly when Sonny lit up. “But I get to pick what we do for our two-year anniversary.”

Sonny’s smile widened. “You think we’ll still be together in a year?”

“I think that depends entirely on how this weekend goes,” Rafael informed him sourly.

Sonny laughed. “Alright, so stakes are high,” he said, leaning in to kiss Rafael. “All I can do is promise that this will be a weekend we’ll never forget.”

Rafael rolled his eyes but kissed Sonny back, his fingers curling in the short hairs on the back of Sonny’s neck. “I’m going to hold you to that, you know.”

Sonny pressed him back against the couch and settled between his legs, rucking Rafael’s shirt up with one hand. “Mmm,” he hummed in agreement, kissing down Rafael’s jaw. “I would expect nothing less.”

* * *

 

"Are we there yet?" Rafael asked in a bored voice, his feet propped up on the dashboard of the car.

"As I told you the last time you asked, all of...what, twenty minutes ago? We still have a few hours," Sonny said through gritted teeth. He glanced at Rafael. "And get your feet off my dashboard."

Rafael rolled his eyes but complied, far too aware of Sonny’s odd attachment to his 1981 Crown Vic. "I'm bored," he complained, not particularly caring that he sounded like a whiny child. "I have no service so I can't do any work, the only radio stations we've found are playing the actual worst music, and you won't even let me give you road head."

Sonny snorted. "Only you would complain about that," he said, his tone fond. "Tell you what, I'll make it up to you tonight."

"Oh yeah?" Rafael said innocently, resting his hand on Sonny's thigh. "What did you have in mind? Because you’ve already promised me blowjobs whenever I want..."

He let out a yelp as Sonny smacked his hand before it could trace the inseam of Sonny's jeans upwards any further. "Don't make me turn this car around," Sonny jokingly threatened, and Rafael huffed a sigh and slumped back in his seat.

"If only you would," he grumbled. "As much as I'm _so_ looking forward to this little murder mystery party tonight."

Sonny ignored his sarcasm. "Speaking of," he said, with forced casualness, "there's something I gotta tell you about tonight."

Rafael looked over at him. "What?" he asked suspiciously.

Without tearing his gaze from the road, Sonny told him seriously, "I'm going to be murdered tonight."

Rafael gaped at him. "You...what?" he managed, his heart beating painfully in his chest.

A small smile lifted the corners of Sonny's mouth. "Yup, yours truly gets the truly enviable role of the decedent in tonight's little murder game."

"The decedent?" Rafael repeated before what Sonny was telling him sank in, and he groaned and smacked Sonny in the shoulder. "You _asshole_! You thought that was funny?!"

Sonny snorted with laughter, his shoulders shaking. "No, I thought it was hilarious," he said, and when Rafael just glowered at him, Sonny reached out and patted his knee. "C'mon, lighten up. You know I'm gonna be around to annoy you for a long time still to come."

"Not if I kill you first," Rafael muttered mutinously, shoving Sonny's hand off of him. "I can't believe we're driving six hours just so I can pretend to solve your murder. Asshole."

Sonny's smile slipped slightly. "Oh, uh, about that..."

Rafael's eyes narrowed. "What now?"

"Well, seeing as how you and I deal with crimes every day, I figured it'd be, you know, an unfair advantage, which is why I volunteered to be the dead guy," Sonny said uncomfortably. "But, uh, since it's not like it's a double homicide..."

He trailed off and Rafael's glare deepened. "Don't tell me," he started threateningly.

"We're still gonna have fun!" Sonny told him, a little too quickly to be sincere.

Rafael ignored him. "We're driving six goddamn hours into the wilderness for you to pretend to get murdered and I don't even get to _play_?!" Sonny tried to interject but Rafael ignored him. "Of all the asinine shit you've pulled, Dominick, this has to take the cake. This might even be worse than the time you took me to Gina's engagement party only to abandon me after five minutes."

"I was on call!" Sonny protested. "Besides—"

"I have half a mind to make you turn around," Rafael continued. "But I'm now really looking forward to seeing you get killed tonight."

Sonny rolled his eyes. "If you'd let me actually talk," he said loudly, and Rafael fell silent, even as he glared murderously at him. "No, you don't get to investigate with the other guests. _But_ you get to do something even better."

"Like what?" Rafael asked sourly.

"You get to decide who presents the best case."

Rafael considered that for a long moment, and Sonny relaxed slightly when he slowly smiled. "You mean I get to be the judge?"

Sonny grinned at him. "Exactly. I figured you'd be happy with that."

"Still probably not worth the six hour trip," Rafael said, but he was still smiling.

Sonny rolled his eyes. "I promise I'll make it worth your while," he said, taking his eyes off the road just long enough to press a kiss to Rafael's temple.

Rafael turned and captured his lips in a quick kiss. "You know what would make it worth my while?" he asked, his voice low.

"Raf, I'm not letting you give me road head," Sonny said patiently.

"Spoilsport," Rafael muttered under his breath, propping his feet back up on the dash and ignoring the dirty look Sonny threw him.

* * *

 

“So what do you think?” Sonny asked as he put the car into park and turned the engine off.

Rafael looked critically at the massive house on the bluff ahead of them and lifted his phone, squinting down at it. “Two bars,” he said sourly. “Well, it’ll have to do.”

“Asshole,” Sonny laughed, swatting the phone out of his hand. “C’mon, look at this place, it’s gorgeous.”

“It’s very nice,” Rafael said diplomatically, looking back up at the house, a sprawling, three-storied building done up in rustic, half-timbered style. It really was a beautiful house, and Rafael probably would’ve been impressed were it not on a mountain in the middle of nowhere. “It looks like it’s going to be decorated with lots of taxidermied animals.”

Sonny laughed, but before he could respond, a tall man in a flannel shirt jogged over to the car. “Sonny motherfuckin’ Carisi!” the man called, and Rafael had sudden, vivid flashbacks to college.

And not in a good way.

“Jason!” Sonny returned, grinning, getting out of the car and greeting the man — Jason, Rafael now knew, their host for the weekend — with a hug that involved much back pounding.

Rafael used that as an opportunity to get out of the car, watching the entire exchange with bemusement. Sonny finally turned back to him, grinning. “Jace, you remember my partner, Rafael.”

“Oh, sure,” Jason said, holding out his hand for Rafael to shake. “Nice to see you again.”

“Charmed,” Rafael said dryly. “Is there free wi-fi?”

Sonny laughed and slung an arm around Rafael’s shoulders, tugging him close and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Despite what you may think, Rafi’s really excited for the weekend.” He glanced sideways at Rafael. “Isn’t that right, babe?”

There was something of a warning in Sonny’s tone, but he needn’t have worried. As much as Rafael may have been dragged up here against his will, now that he was here, he was determined to have a good time. And to hold Sonny to his promise to give him a blowjob at any given opportunity. “Very excited,” Rafael told Jason, who grinned. “Sonny tells me that I get to play judge this weekend?”

“In more ways than one,” Jason said, nodding. “You get to judge the proceedings and your character is also a judge.”

Rafael’s eyes narrowed. “Sonny didn’t mention I had to play a character.”

Sonny’s eyes widened innocently. “I told you it involved audience participation!”

Jason’s easy grin didn’t falter as Rafael glared daggers at Sonny, who gingerly let go of him. “Most of the names I took from this old murder mystery game I found when I was cleaning the place out, but since there wasn’t a judge character, I let Sonny pick your name.”

He held out two laminated name badges, and Rafael took his with something like dread. “William Mudge,” he read out loud. “New York Supreme Court Judge.” He raised an eyebrow at Sonny. “You had the opportunity to make my name anything you wanted and you went with ‘Judge Mudge’?”

Sonny snorted a laugh as he pinned his own badge to his shirt — ‘Judd Jenson’ it proclaimed, with a sub-heading of ‘Class Stud’. “I thought it was funny,” he said brightly.

Rafael’s eyes narrowed. “Why does your name tag say ‘class stud’?”

“Oh, didn’t Sonny tell you?” Jason asked. “The theme of this little soiree is ‘high school reunion’, so every character has what their role was in high school.”

“Class stud?” Rafael repeated, looking at Sonny, who laughed and shrugged.

“Yeah, well, class nerd was already taken, so I figured if I was gonna go with something different, I might as well dream big.”

Rafael looked at him critically, but was saved from saying anything by the arrival of another car. Sonny used his momentary distraction to grab their bags from the car, jerking his chin towards the house. “Do you even know where we’re going?” Rafael asked, following Sonny inside.

Sonny glanced back at him. “Of course,” he said. “Jason told me when I booked it that the honeymoon suite was the master suite on the ground floor.”

“Ground floor?” Rafael asked.

The back of Sonny’s neck flushed red. “Yeah, uh, apparently the floors, um, aren’t as thick as they could be and sound, uh, travels downward, if you know what I mean.”

Rafael knew, and his grin sharpened.

They traipsed through the immense main hall, which was in fact done up with all manner of deceased animals, but Rafael was prevented from complaining by Sonny hipchecking a door off the main hall open and stepping back to gesture Rafael inside. “Honey, we’re home,” he said, grinning, and Rafael cautiously peeked inside.

There were no dead animals, just a massive, open room with french doors that opened out to a veranda. Rafael crossed to them and looked outside. “Oh, wow,” he murmured, taking in the sight of the lake spreading out underneath them. There was still a dusting of snow on the veranda, otherwise Rafael would’ve opened the door and gone outside.

He felt Sonny wrap his arms around his waist from behind, resting his chin on Rafael’s shoulder and kissing him behind his ear right where it made him shiver. “See?” he breathed in Rafael’s ear. “I told you so.”

“Mmm,” Rafael murmured in agreement, turning around to face Sonny and letting Sonny press his back against the cool glass of the doors. “I guess you did.” His eyes slowly traced their way down Sonny’s body before flickering back up to meet Sonny’s. “Stud.”

Sonny laughed. “You ever gonna let me live that down?” he asked, mock-ruefully.

“No,” Rafael said, leaning in and kissing Sonny. “Besides, I’d much rather make you live up to it.”

Sonny laughed again, but this time the laugh was dark and deep, and he wordlessly tugged Rafael over to the bed, pushing him down on it. “Oh, I’m gonna live up to it,” he promised, leaning in to kiss Rafael again, kissing down his jaw and lightly biting down on the stubbled skin on Rafael’s neck. “And I figured I can start with one of those blowjobs I owe you.”

“Then stop talking and get to it,” Rafael said with a smirk.

Sonny rolled his eyes but obediently knelt between Rafael’s spread legs, slowly running his hands up the inside of Rafael’s thighs, tracing his inseam upwards. “I don’t know,” he teased, his mouth ghosting over the growing bulge in Rafael’s jeans. “Do you think you’re ready?”

“I swear to fucking God, Sonny—” Rafael started threateningly, and Sonny laughed, and had just reached up to unzip Rafael’s jeans when a sharp knock sounded on the door.

“Hey, Sonny!” Jason called, and Rafael groaned loudly.

Sonny laughed and gave Rafael an apologetic look as he slowly stood and headed over to the door. “Yeah, Jace, what’s up?”

“You got a second? I want to talk logistics for the dinner tonight.”

Sonny glanced back at Rafael, who rolled his eyes. “Go,” he sighed, and Sonny returned to the bed to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he whispered.

“At this rate, you’re going to owe me a hell of a lot more than blowjobs,” Rafael told him, watching with a withering glare as Sonny left. “God _damn_ it,” he huffed, leaning back against the bed and staring up at the ceiling. With a sigh, he rolled over and grabbed his phone, letting out a second groan of frustration. “1X?” he whined, laying his head back against the bed. “No fucking service — in more ways than one.”

What was he supposed to do now?

Plan his revenge, he supposed, allowing himself a sharp grin. After all, it was what Sonny deserved.

* * *

 

Sonny didn’t return to their bedroom, and when the gong signifying dinner rang, Rafael made his way to the dining room on his own, his stupid ‘Judge Mudge’ badge pinned to the lapel of his blazer. He was the first to arrive, which gave him time to scope out the table. There were ten places set, and each place setting had a name card, all labelled with what Rafael could only hope was the characters’ names. He found his and Sonny’s place toward the far end and had just sat down when a man and woman walked in.

The woman made her way over, offering Rafael a too-bright smile that implied she’d already been hitting the bottle (the half-full champagne glass in her hand was another clue). “Hello,” she told him, holding out her hand.

“Hello,” Rafael returned, his eyebrows raising, just slightly. “I’m Rafael.”

“No you’re not,” the woman said, tittering. “Your name tag says William.”

The man she had come in with cleared his throat. “Sorry about that,” he muttered in an undertone to Rafael, shaking his hand as well, his name tag reading ‘Terry Johnson — Hall Monitor’. “Brian Thompson. This is my wife, Stacy.”

He made as if to put an arm around Stacy’s waist but she jerked away, glaring at him. “My name is Nancy,” she snapped, draining her glass of champagne and immediately heading over to the bar to pour herself another.

Rafael cleared his throat awkwardly. “Not a problem,” he told Brian. His eyes flickered to the badge on Brian’s hip and he added, “Sheriff. Is that just for this party, or…?”

Brian laughed. “No, I’m afraid I am the sheriff in these here parts,” he said with a fake drawl. “Franklin County Sheriff, to be exact. Jason’s family and mine go way back, and he thought it would be fun if I played the role of the sheriff for this shindig as well.”

Rafael’s eyes narrowed. “I’m surprised that you’re allowed to participate,” he said, trying not to sound as sullen as he felt. “My partner and I aren’t participating in the mystery solving because we deal with crime every day.” Brian gave him a surprised look and Rafael added, “He’s an NYPD detective and I’m a New York County ADA.”

Brian relaxed and gave Rafael an easy smile. “Oh, that makes sense. Uh, I mean, I am sheriff, but most of the actual crime that happens here is dealt with by the state troopers. This is more of a figurehead position than anything.”

Rafael nodded slowly, drawing a blank on any response that sound condescending, and was thankfully saved from answering by the arrival of the remaining guests, including Sonny, who made his way to Rafael’s side and kissed his cheek. Rafael glared at him. “Did you figure out your logistics?” he asked sourly.

Sonny rolled his eyes but didn’t respond as Jason had picked up a champagne glass and was tapping it with a knife. “Attention, everyone,” he said, smiling at them. “Thank you all for coming. I appreciate you being here. Take a few minutes to introduce yourselves, but as soon as the first course is served, I expect everyone to be in character.”

Rafael sat and Sonny leaned down. “You want a drink?” he asked.

“Yes, and keep them coming,” Rafael said shortly, Sonny kissed his temple and made his way over to the bar. A woman sat down at the head of the table on Rafael’s left side and smiled at him. “You must be Rafael,” she said. “I’m Katie, Jason’s wife.”

“Nice to meet you,” Rafael said automatically, watching as two older women, both looking like they were in their late 60s or early 70s, sat across the table from him.

One nudged the other and nodded toward Sonny as he returned with their drinks. “Look at that, Cheryl,” she said loudly. “They’ve relegated the gays to this end of the table.”

Rafael choked on his sip of scotch and Cheryl smiled apologetically at him. “Sorry,” she said warmly. “This is my wife, Julie, and she never developed a brain-to-mouth filter.”

“In her defense, she’s not wrong,” Sonny said with a grin.

Rafael rolled his eyes affectionately and tipped his drink towards Cheryl in a toast. “It’s fine, my partner hasn’t yet either.” Julie winked at him and Rafael smiled back, already feeling like the weekend was beginning to look up.

The sheriff and his wife took their seats next to Julie and Cheryl, and on Sonny’s right side, another couple sat down. Rafael missed their introductions, not that it mattered, since at that moment, a server appeared in the doorway of the dining room and Jason announced loudly, “And the game’s afoot.”

As the first course was dished out, Rafael leaned in to ask Sonny in an undertone, “So when do you die?”

“Not til after dessert,” Sonny told him. “I mean, we wouldn’t wanna ruin good food with murder, right?”

Rafael rolled his eyes. “Right,” he said, turning his attention to his bowl of soup.

But they hadn’t even finished the first course — or the stilted, awkward conversation that came from trying to establish their various ‘characters’ for the weekend — when suddenly, the power went out and the room was plunged into darkness.

Immediately, everyone fell silent.

Rafael groped for Sonny’s hand and was reassured when Sonny squeezed his fingers. After a long pause, someone giggled. “Is this part of the game?” someone else asked in a stage-whisper.

Even though he couldn’t see him, Rafael nonetheless glanced to his right, seeking automatic reassurance from Sonny. “It’s not part of the game, Raf,” Sonny said, sounding a little worried, before raising his voice. “Hey Jason—”

There was the scrape of several chairs being pushed out from the table and Rafael felt Sonny let go of his hand, instantly panicking at the loss of contact. “Sonny?” he asked, before repeating, louder, “Sonny, what—”

He was cut off by the distinct BANG of a gunshot and the sound of a body crumpling to the floor.


	2. Opportunity

Someone was screaming, the sound high and thin and terrible. It seemed to echo strangely in Rafael’s ears, still ringing from the gunshot. His heart had seemed to stall, and he couldn’t bring himself to call out again for Sonny, couldn’t bear the thought of Sonny not answering.

The lights flickered back on, and Rafael glanced wildly around.

Sonny was standing, seemingly unharmed, his hand at his side where his gun would normally be holstered. Rafael’s heart started again, and he was able to find the source of the screaming: the sheriff’s wife, seated next to her husband, who was slumped on the ground, blood spreading rapidly the front of his shirt.

In an instant, Sonny was at the sheriff’s side, checking his vitals. He glanced up at Rafael and shook his head, a minute gesture that said all it needed to.

On Rafael’s left, Jason’s wife Katie let out a gasp before slumping over, seemingly passing out at the sight.

Julie stood and hurried over to Sonny and the sheriff, kneeling on his other side and examining the wound closely. “He’s dead,” she said, rather unnecessarily, and the man who had been seated next to Sonny muttered, “I think I’m going to be sick.” His wife looked just as pale, her eyes wide, a trembling hand clutching her chest.

“Looks like a small caliber handgun, probably a 9mm,” Julie said with something like authority, and when Sonny gave her a look, she added, “I was an Army medic for 25 years. I know my gun injuries.”

“Be that as it may, I’m gonna have to ask you to not touch the body,” Sonny said firmly, and Julie lifted her hands defensively while rocking back on her heels. “In fact, everyone needs to stay put, ok? I’m gonna call the cops, and until they get here, no one’s coming in or out of this room.”

Jason swallowed, hard. “You’re a cop,” he said, something desperate in his tone. “Isn’t there anything you can do?”

Rafael cleared his throat. “He doesn’t have jurisdiction here,” he said, mentally adding that as there appeared to be an actual murderer among them, Sonny was going to need backup.

Sonny nodded and glanced back at Julie. “Can you get her some water or something?” he asked, not unkindly, nodding toward the sheriff’s wife Stacy, whose screams had subsided into a near constant whimper.

Julie stood and moved over to Stacy, blocking her view of the body. “Come on, sweetie,” she said firmly, “Let’s have some water and then I want you to take some deep breaths for me, ok?”

While Julie tended to Stacy, Sonny pulled his phone out, frowning down at it. “No service,” he pronounced grimly, glancing around the room. “Does anyone’s phone have service?”

Everyone scrambled for their phones, each shaking their head as none had service. Rafael arched an eyebrow at Sonny, the small motion saying more about how much Sonny was going to owe him after this was all over than words ever could.

Sonny scowled. “Is there a landline?” he asked Jason, who blinked, then nodded slowly.

“Uh, yeah, in the old servants’ quarters, next to the kitchen. It should still be working.”

“Let’s hope so,” Sonny said, still grim, and he glanced back at Rafael as he told the assembled group, “I’m gonna clear the house, make sure there’s no one hiding out anywhere, and try to call the cops from the servants’ quarters. Everyone else needs to stay put. Is that understood?”

Everyone seemed in general agreement of that plan — everyone but Rafael, who moved quickly to intercept Sonny before he could duck out of the dining room. “Are you out of your mind?” Rafael hissed, grabbing Sonny’s arm. “You’re unarmed, you have no back-up, and you want to go exploring the house when there’s a murderer loose out there?

Sonny reached out and cupped Rafael’s cheek, something determined in his expression. “Truth be told,” he said in an undertone, “I think you’ll be in more danger here than I will be out there.” Rafael swallowed as Sonny’s meaning sank in, and Sonny’s expression softened. “But someone’s gotta get in touch with the police, and right now, the list of people I trust is very short.”

Rafael searched Sonny’s eyes for a moment then nodded, just once, before turning his head slightly to press a kiss to Sonny’s palm. “Be safe.”

“Always,” Sonny promised, brushing his thumb across Rafael’s cheek before taking a step away. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

As Rafael watched him leave, he couldn’t help but think that would be very unlikely.

* * *

 

Sonny’s absence felt like an eternity, not helped by Stacy, whose whimpers turned into wracking sobs that were only quieted when Julie pressed a bottle of vodka from the bar into her hand. Jason rubbed his wife’s shoulders as he sat in Rafael’s vacated seat, and the other couple who Rafael hadn’t had a chance to meet before huddled together while Rafael paced nervously, trying not to jump at every sound the house made.

“Can’t we at least cover the body?” Cheryl asked quietly, rubbing Stacy’s arm comfortingly.

Rafael glanced over at her and shook his head. “No. Not until the forensics team comes in and gets whatever they need to. The last thing any of us want is to disturb the crime scene or ruin any evidence.”

The woman Rafael hadn’t yet met let out a gasp. “Oh God, it’s a crime scene,” she whispered, eyes wide. “We’re in the middle of a crime.”

“Well what the hell did you think it was, Angela?” her husband snapped, his voice tight. “Brian was _murdered_.”

She jerked away from him, glaring at him. “You think I don’t realize that, Mike?” she asked, her voice high-pitched and veering towards a shriek, and Rafael winced, desperately wishing that Sonny was back — he was much better at dealing with this sort of thing.

And besides, as soon as Sonny got back, Rafael would be making a beeline for the bar and the bottle of scotch.

The door creaked and Rafael let out a noise that, when later asked, he would describe as a startled yet still distinctly masculine sound.

Judging by the look on Sonny’s face as he poked his head back into the room, it was probably closer to a scream. “Phone’s out,” he reported. “The chef said that there’s a storm that’s blowing through and it’s likely knocked out the phone lines. And the house is clear. No one here but us and the staff.”

“Does...does that mean the murderer is one of us?” Julie asked in the general silence that followed Sonny’s statement.

Sonny held up his hands placatingly as almost everyone spoke out at that. “I’m not saying that,” Sonny said loudly, speaking over everyone. “But until we manage to get in touch with the police, everyone’s gonna have to stay put and be prepared to give a statement.”

“What about you?” Katie asked, almost hysterically, pointing a wavering finger at Sonny as her husband looked between them, eyes wide. “You’re a cop, you have a gun. Maybe you did it!”

Rafael felt a burst of something like fury in his chest at the accusation, but Sonny didn’t even blink. “We’re all under a lot of stress right now, and it’s not gonna be helpful to toss accusations around,” he said calmly.

“That didn’t answer her question,” Mike said, his eyes narrowed with something like suspicion. “Do you have a gun with you or not?”

“I do,” Sonny said, still calm, though Rafael could read the tension that tightened his shoulders. “But it’s locked in the gun safe in the glove compartment of my car.”

Rafael shot him a dirty look, because Sonny _knew_ how he felt about travelling with a gun when Sonny wasn’t on official business, but Sonny ignored him. “Can you prove that?” Cheryl asked tentatively, glancing around the room.

“Of course—” Sonny started, but Rafael cut him off.

“Sonny, sidebar.”

Though Sonny looked like he wanted to roll his eyes at the barked command, he nonetheless turned to Rafael and bowed his head in closer to him. “Can I help you, Counselor?” he asked.

“I don’t know _why_ you think this is funny,” Rafael hissed, and Sonny sighed, reaching out to grab his hand.

“I don’t, Raf, I really don’t,” he said, sounding tired. “But this is something easy enough for me to prove and might set some people at ease. And considering the last thing we need right now is for people to panic…”

He trailed off and Rafael let out something like a growl, mostly irritated because he knew Sonny was right. “Fine, but as your lawyer—”

“I’m a lawyer, too, Rafael,” Sonny reminded him, rather unnecessarily.

“As your lawyer,” Rafael continued, ignoring him, “I have to remind you that this would be you voluntarily waiving your Fourth Amendment rights.” Sonny rolled his eyes and Rafael added, “And I’m going out there with you.”

Sonny’s expression instantly darkened. “What?” he snapped. “Raf, I’m not taking you outside this house, not when we don’t know—”

“Exactly, we don’t know,” Rafael shot back. “And I’m not letting you go out there by yourself with someone who’s potentially a murderer.” Sonny glared at him, and Rafael added, “Over my dead body, Detective.”

“Low blow,” Sonny muttered, but he squeezed Rafael’s hand before turning back to the group at large. “I can prove that the gun is in my car. If everyone agrees to the plan, I’m gonna take Rafael and Jason out to the car and show them that the gun is in there.”

“How do we know you didn’t take it back to your car when you went to see if the phone was working?” Angela asked, her voice still high-pitched.

Sonny took a deep breath, clearly irritated, but it was Jason who interrupted him. “Security system,” he said, sitting up straight. “The outside doors are set to record whenever they’re accessed. Just to be safe.” He gave Sonny a slightly sheepish smile. “Probably should’ve mentioned that before.”

“That...would have been a good thing to know, yeah,” Sonny said, a muscle working in his cheek as he undoubtedly bit back his irritation, “but we’ll go over the security system when we get back.” He glanced around the room. “Is everyone in agreement?”

Everyone exchanged glances and nodded, and Sonny looked at them all sternly. “While we’re gone, nobody move, nobody touch the body, nobody does anything, ok?”

Stacy let out a muffled sob, which seemed to dissipate the tension just slightly, and Jason stood to join them. “Sorry about this, Sonny,” he said quietly as they made their way toward the front door. “I know you had nothing to do with this—”

“It’s totally fine,” Sonny assured him, and Rafael snorted. “Despite what Rafael clearly wants to say.”

“It’s not fine, it’s bullshit,” Rafael informed them as they crossed the front porch, shivering in the cold, snow swirling around them as they headed through what felt to Rafael like yet another nor’easter. “To voluntarily waive your Fourth Amendment rights over scurrilous accusations—”

“Scurrilous? You sound like you swallowed a thesaurus,” Sonny said fondly, his breath fogging in front of him.

“—especially when there are better ways to go about this, like testing for GSR,” Rafael continued as if Sonny hadn’t spoken.

Sonny rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Counselor,” he said, fishing his keys from his pocket. “You know as well as I do that gunshot residue isn’t conclusive. Buchanan would have a field day if you came into court with GSR evidence, and Rita would laugh you out of the room.”

He unlocked the driver’s side door and slid inside, leaning over to unlock the glove compartment and slide out the portable gun safe inside. He switched to a different key and unlocked the safe, turning it to show Rafael and Jason, crowded together outside. “Right where I left it,” he said. “Full clip—” He slid the magazine from the gun to prove that it was fully loaded. “—And one in the chamber.”

As much as Rafael disliked guns, he had to admit that it did something to him to watch Sonny unload the round from the chamber, his hands moving with confidence over the weapon.

Jason let out a sigh that sounded like relief. “Like I said, I knew it wasn’t you,” he said, offering Sonny a tentative smile. “Let’s head back inside.” Sonny nodded and Jason hesitated before adding, “And honestly? I’d feel a lot better if you brought that with you.”

Sonny glanced at Rafael, who shrugged and sighed. “Now that you’re on official police business, you may as well,” he groused and Sonny again nodded, grabbing his holster and reloading the gun before standing and strapping his holster to his belt.

He tucked the gun safe under his arm to bring inside and relocked the car, which Rafael felt was a little unnecessary considering they were already looking for a murderer and he doubted anyone would be dumb enough to steal a car under the circumstances.

Jason had already started to head back up to the house, and Rafael made to follow him, but Sonny caught his arm. "You know what this means, right?" he asked seriously. "Someone else in there is armed. And they have no qualms about killing law enforcement."

Rafael nodded, his expression grim, before forcing a smile. "And here I thought I wasn’t going to get to play this weekend."

Sonny huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Come on,” he said, sliding his hand from Rafael’s arm down to his hand.

And together they trudged back towards the house to search for a murderer.


	3. Motive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to ships-to-sail for the beta!

Sonny and Rafael rejoined Jason just inside the doorway, pausing to brush the snow off. “So what now?” Rafael asked, glancing between Jason and Sonny. “The phone’s are out, so what next?”

Jason shrugged, looking worried, while Sonny took a deep breath and looked determined. “Easy,” he said. “I want you to take the car and go into town to alert the police in person.”

Rafael blinked. “You’re going to let me drive Christine?” he asked, impressed despite himself.

“Let is one way of putting it,” Sonny muttered, giving Rafael a look. “More like lacking any other options, since I’m the one with the gun and there's no one else I trust.” He glanced at Jason. “Sorry.”

Jason held his hands up. “Hey, man, I get it,” he said. “I wouldn't trust me either. But if you're gonna go to the police, you're better off heading to the state troopers district headquarters. Local police don't have authority out here, just the state troopers and, well, the sheriff…”

He gulped and trailed off as Sonny and Rafael exchanged glances. Then Sonny dug his car keys out of his pocket and held them out for Rafael, only to snatch them back at the last minute. “You'll drive the speed limit, right?” he asked worriedly. “And brake with ample distance and—”

Rafael rolled his eyes. “I _have_ driven before, Detective.”

“And it's not you I'm worried about,” Sonny shot back.

“Oh for Christ’s sake, if this is about your goddamn car—”

The look on Sonny’s face was downright murderous but before he could say anything, they were interrupted. “Detective!” a voice called, and Rafael and Sonny whirled around as one, though Sonny relaxed when he saw who it was.

“This is Chef Erik,” he told Rafael, as the man in question pulled up next to them, out of breath. “He was kind enough earlier to show me where the phone was.”

Erik gave a distracted nod in Rafael’s direction before telling Sonny, “I wanted to let you know, Detective — I tried to send my staff home and they had to turn right back around and come back. The storm’s picked up and the road’s been blocked.”

Sonny glanced at Jason, who shrugged helplessly. “Perils of mountain living,” he said, with a weak sort of laugh.

Rafael opened his mouth and Sonny shot him a look. “Don’t even say anything,” he said threateningly. “I already know I’m banned from choosing our vacations for the rest of my life.”

“Well, as long as you know,” Rafael muttered, though he reached out and grabbed Sonny’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. He wasn’t going to remind Sonny that Miami didn’t have nor’easters.

At least, he wasn’t going to remind Sonny of that right _now_.

Instead, he cleared his throat. “So now what do we do?”

Sonny took a deep breath. “Change of plans,” he said bracingly. “First and foremost, we’ll have to move the body.”

“But the integrity of the crime scene—” Rafael started to interject, feeling a familiar headache building in his temples, the kind he got when SVU pulled some stupid move or other at a crime scene or with a witness.

And this wasn’t even his case to prosecute.

“The crime scene will be compromised anyway if the body decomposes,” Sonny stated evenly. “And since we have no idea how long we’ll be here…” He trailed off at the look on Rafael’s face and quickly turned to Jason. “When I was in the kitchen, I saw a walk-in freezer. You can help me move the body there.”

Jason blanched. “To the freezer?” he protested.

“It’ll help keep whatever physical evidence is on the body intact,” Sonny told him. “And we’re running outta other options.” Jason swallowed, hard, but jerked his head in a short nod. Sonny glanced back at Rafael. “After that, I’m gonna review the security footage and look for the second gun.”

Rafael bit back the many protests he had at that part of the plan, scowling as he snapped, “And I suppose you want me to sit tight and look pretty?”

Sonny’s lips twitched in amusement. “I mean, can you blame me?” he mused, and Rafael’s scowl deepened. “But no, I don’t want you to just sit tight and look pretty. I also want you to talk to our suspects.” Rafael blinked, taken aback, and Sonny added in an undertone, “You’re the only one I trust with this. We all had the same opportunity to kill the sheriff — so now we gotta figure out who had a motive.”

It was Rafael’s turn to take a deep breath and he nodded, slowly. “Fine,” he said, glancing at the chef, who was still hovering nervously nearby. “But if I’m going to be interrogating suspects, I’m going to need coffee.”

The chef brightened. “That I can do.”

“Pretzels, too, if you have any,” Sonny called at his retreating back, and grinned at Rafael. “I know what my man likes.”

“Sun, beaches, and a vacation that doesn’t double as an active crime scene, to start,” Rafael quipped and Sonny rolled his eyes.

“I already promised to make it up to you.”

“There aren’t enough blowjobs in the world to make up for this, Detective,” Rafael said dryly. “Though I look forward to seeing you try.”

Sonny’s eyes darkened and he took a step toward Rafael, hands falling to rest on Rafael’s chest. “Yeah, I bet you do,” he murmured, before leaning in to kiss him.

Jason cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, guys?”

Sonny sighed and rested his forehead against Rafael’s. “Duty calls.”

“Spoilsport,” Rafael grumbled, following Sonny back into the dining room, where Jason again cleared his throat, this time avoiding looking at either of them, instead addressing the guests. “Everyone, Det. Carisi’s gun was indeed locked in his car, fully loaded. He was not the shooter.”

Rafael glared at the assembled group, daring any of them to throw any other accusations at Sonny, but none of them seemed up for it. Instead, Sonny took a step forward. “So I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is that we will be moving the body after all.”

“Oh thank God,” Katie sighed, with several others echoing the sentiment.

Sonny cleared his throat. “The bad news is that the storm has picked up, and we’re not getting off this mountain tonight.” Stacy, the sheriff’s wife, let out a little whimper, and Sonny winced. “I know no one wants to stay here any longer than we have to, but the chef’s gonna be bringing in some coffee, and with a little luck, we’ll be able to leave first thing tomorrow morning.”

Julie raised her hand. “Can we at least go back to our rooms?” she asked. “I’m afraid red’s never really been my color.”

She gestured at the blood stains on her blouse and Sonny shook his head. “Unfortunately, no, not yet,” he said. “Jason and I are going to review the security footage and do a more thorough search of the house. Until we’re sure no one’s in immediate danger, everyone needs to stay here.” He paused. “For your own safety.”

Rafael had always admired Sonny’s ability to stay calm under pressure. It was what made him an excellent undercover cop. It also made up for the fact that he had the world’s worst poker face, and Rafael had to quickly cough to cover his laugh as Sonny tried his best to look earnest and like he was concerned about the safety of anyone in that room besides Rafael.

And maybe himself.

Though some days, Rafael wondered about that.

In any case, those who weren’t intimately acquainted with Sonny’s tells seemed to buy his concern, as no one put up any further protest. Of course, this was helped by the fact that Chef Erik appeared with not just coffee, but an entire spread of desserts, and Sonny and Jason used the group’s momentary distraction to pick up the body and remove it from the room.

But not before Rafael caught Sonny’s arm as he headed toward the body, and pulled Sonny flush to him to kiss him for a long moment. “Be safe,” he whispered.

Sonny kissed him back and squeezed his hand. “You too.”

As soon as Sonny and Jason were gone, Rafael made a beeline for the coffee, pouring himself a cup with just a bit of cream before settling down at the table. “So,” he said, conversationally, as pretty much everyone else joined him at the table — everyone besides Stacy, who was sitting on the floor, bottle of vodka clutched in her hand. “I’ve heard that what helps with grief and with shock is talking about the person who died.”

It wasn’t a lie; Rafael had read it somewhere. He was pretty sure anyway. But as much as Rafael enjoyed a good interrogation, he had also learned over the years that occasionally, the best way to get information out of someone, especially someone with something to hide, was to take a slightly less...confrontational approach.

Or maybe he was just going soft in his old age.

“I think that sounds nice,” Cheryl offered with a tentative smile. “I’ve known Brian for, gosh, must be—”

“Sorry,” Rafael said, cutting her off and flashing a quick smile all around, “I hope no one minds, but I’m just terrible with names, so if everyone can reintroduce themselves, that’d be great, and I’m just going to, uh, put everyone’s names in my phone to help me remember.”

No one seemed put off by that, so Rafael pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened the notes app, feeling a small pang that he couldn’t send Sonny a quick text message like he normally would. He looked expectantly back at Cheryl. “So — you were saying?”

Cheryl blinked. “Oh, um, right. Um. Cheryl Decker.” She paused. “Do you want my character’s name as well?”

“Your character?” Rafael repeated blankly, before he remembered what ostensible reason had brought him to murder mansion. “Oh. Right. Sure — it certainly can’t hurt.”

Even if he could think of absolutely no reason why he would ever need to know that.

Cheryl relaxed, just slightly. “Sure. I was playing Bobbie Bright, the class bookworm.” Rafael shook his head at the name but typed it in regardless. “And like I said, I’ve known Brian pretty much all his life. I’m a native to these parts, as is he. Julie here—”

She squeezed her wife’s hand, and Julie interjected, “Julie Decker, playing Molly Ringworm, the class drama queen.”

“A role she was born to play,” Cheryl added fondly, and Julie winked at Rafael, who couldn’t hide his smile as he took a sip of coffee. “She came out here, what, twenty years ago now?”

“Seems like yesterday,” Julie said. “But yes, twenty years ago. My office in Manhattan was downsizing and I decided it was time to leave the city and see what else was out there.” She leaned in to kiss Cheryl’s cheek. “Best decision I ever made.” She glanced back at Rafael. “Cheryl and I had Brian and Stacy over to our place probably once a week, right babe? He was a wonderful man, and a true public servant.”

‘He really was,” Angela piped up, eyes wide. “Oh, um, Angela Richardson. My character was, um…” She pulled her nametag off of her blouse and checked it. “Natalie Nebraska, the cheerleader.”

Her husband leaned forward. “And I’m Mike Richardson,” he said, “and Joe Nebraska, the jock, not that anyone’s surprised by that.” He gave Rafael what he clearly thought was a winning grin, and Rafael felt very abruptly like he was back in high school. And not in a good way. “And Angie’s right, Brian was good people. We weren’t year-rounders, we’re from West Orange—” _New Jersey_ , Rafael thought darkly, and had to suppress a shudder at the thought. “—though my wife’s been coming up here since she was a kid, but Brian always made time for a round of golf or whatever. Treated us like we were natives.”

Rafael nodded slowly and glanced at Katie, whose eyes were red-rimmed. “It’s like they said,” she said roughly, her voice still a little watery. “This house has been in my family for generations, and Brian and I grew up together. He didn’t deserve—”

Her voice cracked and Angela rubbed her arm soothingly. Rafael tried not to look disappointed by how little they’d told him. “So all in all, Brian was just a good guy?” he pressed, trying not to completely ruin the charade, but knowing that at the moment, he had exactly nothing to go on in terms of motive. “An all-around good guy with no skeletons in his closet, no reason for anyone to...shoot him, for instance?”

The group exchanged glances, shaking their heads, but before anyone could say anything, they were interrupted by a horrible, hysterical laugh. “A good guy?”

As one, they all turned to look at Stacy Thompson, who had stood up from the floor, bottle of vodka still clenched in her fist. Her laughter was almost maniacal, matching the terrible look on her face as she pointed the bottle of vodka at the group. “I have never seen a bigger group of fucking liars in my life.”

She took a swig from the bottle and stumbled toward the table, Rafael half-rising from his seat to intercept her. She blinked and focused on him. “You want to know who had a reason to kill my husband, Detective?”

“I’m not a detective—” Rafael started, but she ignored him.

“I mean, that’s what this whole bullshit kumbaya session is really about, right?” she asked, slurring rather extensively. “But if you’re looking for motive, Detective, you’ve come to the right place. You see, in addition to being a lying, cheating sack of shit, my husband, having no actual power as county sheriff, just a badge and gun to make up for a small dick and mediocre sex—” She hiccuped. “—got his rocks off by working with other law enforcement agencies.” She paused and took an almost contemplative sip of vodka. “Oh, and got his rocks off by screwing her.”

She pointed at Katie, who stared up at her in horror. “Oh, sweetie, did you think I didn’t know?” Stacy asked, laughing horribly again, the sound like fingernails on a chalkboard. “But don’t worry, you’re not the only one who wanted him dead. Let’s start with, hmmm…” She glanced around the room, eyes lighting up when they landed on Mike. “Mr. West fucking Orange. Hopefully he likes orange in more ways than one because he’s got a federal peni— peniten— fucking jail jumpsuit with his goddamn name on it, courtesy of the SEC.”

Both Mike and Angela were giving Stacy murderous looks, but she didn’t seem perturbed, just nodding slowly. “Oh, yes,” she said blithely. “Insider trading, wasn’t it, Mike? And so my husband nailed you just as hard as he nailed your wife back in high school. Speaking of—” She lifted the bottle of vodka in a mocking toast to Angela. “Angie, sweetie, isn’t it time you got over the fact that your daddy paid Brian not to date you back in the day?”

Angela’s eyes flashed, but before she could say anything, Stacy had moved on, weaving her way around the table. “And I’m sure that the granny lesbians seem like they have nothing to hide, but this one—” she pointed at Julie. “—she’s been smuggling prescription drugs from Canada while her wife has been growing marijuana on their farm. DEA’s all up in that, aren’t they.”

Julie stood, her jaw clenched, but Cheryl grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her back down. “And darling Jason, well, I imagine finding out you’ve been made a cuckold by one of your oldest friends probably doesn’t go over well,” Stacy mused, tapping her chin. “So as you can see, Detective — we all wanted Brian dead. And personally, I’d just like to offer a toast.”

She lifted the bottle of vodka. “To whoever killed my husband before I got a chance to, because God knows he deserved it.”

With that, she unceremoniously smashed it on the floor before toppling over and landing in a heap, seemingly passed out.

Rafael blinked, shell-shocked and dripping in vodka, and it took him a moment to recover. He cleared his throat as he wrung out the sleeve of his suit jacket. “Ok,” he said slowly, raising an eyebrow as he glanced around the room at the rest of the guests, all of whom seemed to be conspicuously avoiding his gaze, and all of whom looked guilty. “What do you say we try this again?”


	4. Means

Sonny cleared his throat and glanced at the assembled guests, one of whom, he now knew — or at least very highly suspected — was a murderer. “So I’ve got good news and bad news,” he told them, watching their reactions carefully. “The good news is that we will be moving the body after all.”

“Oh thank God,” Katie sighed, and Sonny glanced at her, reading nothing in her expression but actual relief.

Which was the same thing he saw on almost everyone’s face, and he realized that even the murderer was probably going to be relieved to see the body taken out of the room. After all, no one else had gotten their start in homicide and was as immune to a dead body.

“The bad news,” he continued, still watching everyone carefully, suspecting that the reactions here might be more telling, “is that the storm has picked up, and we’re not getting off this mountain tonight.” No one seemed particularly surprised by that, nor did anyone seem particularly stricken — save for the widow, who let out a whimper.

Sonny winced.

For all his years on homicide, for all his years at SVU, it never got easier to work with the loved ones of someone who was murdered. Grief was often insurmountable, but he also couldn’t offer whatever comfort came naturally to him because — in almost all cases — the loved ones were usually also suspects.

He chanced a glance at Rafael, who was glaring at the assembled guests, a determined jut to his jaw, and he almost let himself smile. If the worst ever happened to Rafael — and given their line of work, and Rafael’s tendency to run his mouth, he’d be an idiot to not at least have given it a passing thought — very likely no one would think of Sonny as a suspect.

Given the downright murderous look Rafael had worn multiple times throughout this evening alone, the opposite couldn’t be said, and Sonny had to bite back a grin. It probably shouldn’t give him comfort, thinking of Rafael being hauled in for questioning were Sonny to end up murdered, but something about it did.

Or maybe they’d just been doing this job for too long.

Either way, he looked back at the other dinner guests. “I know no one wants to stay here any longer than we have to, but the chef’s gonna be bringing in some coffee, and with a little luck, we’ll be able to leave first thing tomorrow morning.”

One of the older women, Julie, raised her hand. “Can we at least go back to our rooms?” she asked. “I’m afraid red’s never really been my color.”

Sonny winced again, remembering all too well how quickly she had sprung into action. A valiant attempt to save a life already lost — or else an excellent way to cover one’s tracks. “Unfortunately, no, not yet,” he said, shaking his head. “Jason and I are going to review the security footage and do a more thorough search of the house. Until we’re sure no one’s in immediate danger, everyone needs to stay here.”

He paused, and this time definitely did not look at Rafael, if only because he knew Rafael would be smirking. The man routinely accused him of lacking a poker face and yet, when it came to serious matters, could barely contain himself.

Amateur.

“For your own safety,” Sonny added, still not looking at Rafael, still refusing to give him the satisfaction.

Luckily, he was spared by Chef Erik arriving with a cart full of coffee, tea and desserts, and Sonny glanced at Jason and jerked his head toward the prone figure on the floor.

He had just taken a step in that direction when he felt Rafael’s hand on his arm, and finally, he looked back at him, reading in an instant everything in Rafael's expression.

The man had an impeccable poker face.

But Sonny had spent years figuring out what each minuscule twitch meant, and memorizing every line and movement.

He’d been sunk from the beginning, and it was never clearer than in moments like this.

Something shifted in Rafael’s expression, and Sonny let himself be pulled in against him, let himself get bent down for Rafael to kiss him, a lighter kiss than earlier in the evening, but no less meaningful.

“Be safe,” Rafael whispered, green eyes searching blue.

It was what Rafael said to him every morning (or evening, if their schedules for whatever work-related reason had been flip-flopped), and Sonny nodded

He’d never really been the reckless type, not like a lot of the cops that he knew.

But ever since Rafael...well, he had more than ample reason not to be reckless again.

So he kissed Rafael back, and he squeezed his hand, and he said, his voice just this side of rough and saying in two words everything he would never have been able to say given a lifetime, “You too.”

Then he watched as Rafael made a beeline for the coffee, shaking his head and smiling, just a little, at how utterly predictable Rafael was, even under the worst of circumstances.

His smile had disappeared by the time he joined Jason at the side of the body. “You ready for this?” Sonny asked in a low voice.

Jason shrugged, though he looked thoroughly nauseated. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he said bracingly. “You, uh, you want me to get the feet or…”

He looked ashen at the very thought of picking Brian up so close to the bullet wound, and Sonny shook his head. “Take the feet,” he advised. “Try not to, uh, disturb anything.”

“You trying to tell me not to puke on the body?” Jason muttered, crouching down by Brian’s feet.

Sonny managed a small, dark smile. “To say the least.” He gripped the body underneath the arms and nodded to Jason. “On the count of three: 1...2...3…”

Together they lifted the body, Jason gritting his teeth in concentration. “Jesus,” he grunted, as they slowly made their way out of the dining room. “I didn’t think Brian was this heavy.”

“Ever heard of the phrase ‘deadweight’?” Sonny managed, his arms burning. He was severely regretting letting Rafael talk him out of going to the gym for the last...well, longer than Sonny cared to admit, but in his defense, he was a weak man, and when Rafael looked up at him with eyes half-lidded from sleep to offer, mid-yawn, “If you want a workout, why not just stay in bed with me?”, what was Sonny supposed to do?

Evidently, as he tried to tighten his grip, he was supposed to turn his lover down and go to the fucking gym.

Sonny gritted his teeth and tried not to let all of his blood flow southward when he very obviously needed all the help he could get. “Please tell me we’re almost there,” he said as they slowly progressed toward the kitchen.

Jason glanced over Sonny’s shoulder and brightened. “Yeah, we’re almost—” He lost his grip on Brian’s feet and Sonny swore as the body was practically yanked out of his precarious grasp to fall, face-down, on the white carpet in the hallway.

“Oh, shit.”

Jason sounded stricken and Sonny sighed, tempted to reach up to pinch the bridge of his nose — an unfortunate habit he’d picked up from Rafael — before he realized he’d literally been carrying a dead body, and touching his face was probably not a great life choice.

Instead, he settled for shaking his head and snapping, more waspish than he meant it to be, “Don’t touch it!” when Jason reached out for the body. “Just…” He trailed off, trying to figure out a better way to do this, before brightening. “Do you have a tarp?”

* * *

 

Fifteen minutes later, they had rolled the body onto a tarp and finally carried it into the freezer, which Sonny promptly locked and pocketed the key. “What if Chef Erik needs to get in there?” Jason asked worriedly as he led Sonny toward his office to review the security footage.

“Then I’ll unlock the door and let him in,” Sonny said tiredly. “At the moment, I’m more concerned about making sure that there’s no one who got in or left the house, so tell me about the security system.”

Jason nodded and opened his office door, stepping back to let Sonny in. “Um, pretty standard. It’s an old house, been in my family for generations, you know—”

“Yeah, I meant to ask about that,” Sonny said, taking the proffered seat at the computer. “When we were at Fordham together, I thought you were gonna be the next big Manhattan closer. Did you decide contract law wasn’t for you, or…?”

Shrugging, Jason settled down next to Sonny and clicked through a few things on the computer. “No, nothing like that. I still do law stuff part-time, but this house was empty and it seemed like, you know, a good opportunity, so why not, right?” He pointed toward the screen, split into a few different CCTV camera angles. “Anyway, front and back doors are both monitored 24/7, cache cleared weekly. Side doors have cameras that are programmed to start recording when they’re opened and stop recording after five minutes.”

Sonny nodded. “Then let’s start with the side doors, see if any of them were opened leading up to or during dinner.” Jason typed a few things on the keyboard and the CCTV shots disappeared, replaced by a list of recordings. “There,” Sonny said, pointing at the time stamp. “That was right when dinner started. What door is that?”

“Side door off the kitchen,” Jason told him, clicking on the file and bringing the recording up. He pressed play and they watched as the kitchen door swung open and one of the kitchen staff, a young woman, stepped outside, propping the door open before lighting a cigarette and stepping just out of frame. 

By the time the video cut to black, she hadn’t reappeared — nor had anyone else, but the door remained propped open, and Sonny frowned. “Anyone could have gotten in after that point,” he said, jabbing at the computer screen before standing decisively. “Let’s go talk to her, see if she saw anyone skulking around the property, or worse, let someone in while she was out smoking.”

Jason hesitated. “Chef Erik’s staff are mostly undocumented," he said reluctantly. "And I'm not sure any of his people speak much English."

"Well, we still gotta talk to them," Sonny said. "Besides, New York City's a sanctuary city and as far as I'm concerned, I’m not here to enforce federal immigration law. So let's go."

Jason followed him out of the room. “How’re you gonna speak to them if they don’t speak English?”

“I know I look like an idiot, but I can say some things in Spanish,” Sonny said good-naturedly. “You know, ‘manos arriba’, ‘tienes el derecho de permanecer en silencio’, and so on.” Jason frowned, looking confused, and Sonny sighed. “That was a joke,” he said, pushing the door to the kitchen open.

“I know that,” Jason said. “I just—“

Sonny cut him off, clearing his throat and looking at the assembled staff. “Hola,” he said, in what he hoped was a friendly tone, zeroing in on the young woman in question. “Mi nombre es Sonny Carisi, y soy un detective del NYPD. No están en problemas, solo necesito hacerte algunas preguntas.”

If Rafael had been there, he would’ve made a million snide comments about Sonny’s pronunciation, but personally, Sonny didn’t think he’d done too terribly.

Apparently, judging by the looks the staff shot each other, they didn’t agree, and he frowned. "Sonny," Jason hissed, but Sonny ignored him.

“No soy un federale,” he added, hoping it would help. “No están en problemas. No me importa sus estados de tarjeta verde. Nueva York es una ciudad santuario.”

The girl just stared at him with wide eyes and Jason cleared his throat. "Sonny—" he started, but she interrupted him.

"Je suis canadienne," she said.

Sonny blinked and slowly turned to stare at Jason, who shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry," he said. "I should've been clearer. They're undocumented immigrants from Canada, and, uh, they speak—"

"French," Sonny finished, punching the bridge of his nose and sighing heavily. "Of course.” He made a mental note to never mention this to Rafael and instead looked back at the kitchen staff. “Um, anyone here, uh, parlez-vous English?”

Someone giggled, and Sonny closed his eyes and wished for the first time that he had fallen in love with someone who spoke French instead of Spanish. 

* * *

 

 

It took a bit of effort and at least two staff members trying to help translate even though everyone seemed to speak as much English as the rest, but in the end, Sonny was able to get the story out of the poor girl who looked downright terrified. She had gone out for a cigarette and to call her boyfriend back in Canada. She hadn’t seen anyone around the house, and she’d gone back inside.

Which was exactly what Sonny had expected.

“And no one came in while the door was propped open?” he asked, just to verify.

She shook her head, eyes wide. “No, no one came in,” she said in heavily-accented English, but something about the way she emphasized the word ‘in’ struck Sonny, and he frowned at her.

“Did anyone leave?” he asked.

“No,” she said, but she said it almost cautiously, and Sonny couldn’t quite tell if it was the language barrier or something else, but his cop senses were piqued, even if he had no idea why.

“Ok,” he said slowly, knowing that he didn’t have another tack to take that wouldn’t make it sound like he just straight up didn’t believe her, and he paused before addressing the rest of the staff as well. “If I have any more questions, I’ll stop back in. And, uh, in the meantime, there’s a short, ill-tempered guy in the dining room — keep him plied with coffee and pretzels, please, for my sake.”

That at least earned Sonny a laugh and he managed a smile, even if this entire line of questioning had gotten him nowhere. Jason sighed as he followed Sonny back out of the kitchen. “So is this what police work is like?” he asked, trailing after Sonny as they headed upstairs toward the guests’ bedrooms. “Following leads that turn out to be dead ends?”

Sonny shrugged. “A lotta the time — yeah, that’s exactly what it is. SVU’s a little easier because most of the vics are still breathing, but…” He trailed off, his expression darkening. “Doesn’t mean they’ll be in any position to actually help ID the perp.”

Jason winced. “That sounds...rough, man,” he said. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“It helps to have someone to go home to,” Sonny said honestly. “If I didn’t have Rafael…” He shook his head. “I doubt I’d’ve made it this long without, you know, snapping. Besides—” He squared his shoulders as they reached the first door. “—it helps to remember you have a job to do.”

He reached for the door knob then, abruptly, yanked his hand back, and Jason stared at him. “Problem?”

Sonny sighed, feeling an all-too-familiar headache in his temples. “Yeah, a little thing known as the Fourth Amendment. I can’t search these rooms without a warrant.”

Jason blinked. “But...I’m the owner. Can’t I just give you permission?”

“Not if this place is operating as a hotel,” Sonny said. “Hotel guests have a limited right to privacy, and that includes me not being able to search their rooms without a warrant.”

“Does it matter if it’s not technically a hotel?” Jason asked, somewhat hopefully.

Sonny shrugged. “To my knowledge, there’s no difference of privacy when it comes to being a B&B or a hotel or an inn or whatever.”

Jason shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant,” he said. “I mean, I’m not open for business yet, and no one’s being charged for staying here. So does it still count?”

“That’s a good question,” Sonny murmured, trying to search in the recesses of his memory for any mention of exceptions to hotel privacy and drawing a blank. If he had service — and if he had wanted to surrender any remaining shreds of dignity — he could’ve texted Rafael, but he didn’t really want a lecture on the Fourth Amendment right now and didn’t have service anyway, so he settled for shaking his head and asking, “Do you have any kind of hotel license?”

“Uh, I have a permit to operate a temporary residence?” Jason said.

“What date does it take effect?”

Jason thought about it for a moment. "Not til next month, I don't think."

Sonny considered it. “Good enough for me,” he allowed, opening the door.

Jason followed him into the room. “Why’s it matter anyway? I mean, you don’t even have jurisdiction, right?”

“Even if I don’t have jurisdiction, I want to be able to hand whoever does have jurisdiction the tightest possible case,” Sonny said grimly. “And getting the murder weapon thrown out as evidence because of an illegal search wouldn’t really be doing that.”

Jason managed a light chuckle. “Sonny Carisi doesn’t fuck around, huh?” he asked, his tone teasing, clearly aiming to lighten the mood.

But Sonny wasn’t quite there yet. “When it comes to solving a murder? I try not to.”

“And when it comes to other things?” Jason asked, clearly not deterred.

Now Sonny did manage a small smile. “Well, one time when Raf made me go to trivia night with him, I let him believe that I had a much greater knowledge of sports trivia than I do.” He laughed. “Three rounds of trivia later and I swear to God he almost broke up with me then and there.”

Jason snorted. “I’ll take it Rafael Barba doesn’t fuck around with trivia?”

“That, my friend, is an understatement,” Sonny said with a chuckle. He pointed toward the far corner of the room. “You start over there, I’ll start over here. And since we don’t have any gloves, this is a ‘look, don’t touch’ exercise, got it?”

Jason nodded. “What exactly are we looking for?” he asked.

Sonny shrugged. “Ideally a gun,” he said, trying not to make it sound as obvious as it was. “But also ammunition, casings, anything out of the ordinary.”

“Do you think we’ll find anything?”

Sonny sighed. “Truthfully? No. I think whoever shot Brian still has the gun on them. I don’t think they would’ve have time to ditch it yet.”

Jason glanced over at him, brow creased with worry. “Do you mean, someone stuck in a room with my wife and your, uh, Rafael, is probably armed?” Sonny shrugged and Jason looked even more concerned. “Aren’t you worried something’ll happen to him?”

“Nah, Raf can take care of himself,” Sonny said, which was a hard-learned lesson. It had taken a lot for Sonny’s natural protective instincts to be tempered and honed, at least when it came to Rafael, who didn’t find Sonny’s tendency towards overprotectiveness to be even remotely charming (but when the asshole had been known to give out his home address to people threatening to kill him, could he _really_ blame Sonny?). “Besides, Rafael won’t let anything bad happen.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Sonny rolled his eyes affectionately, already picturing Rafael’s smug smirk. “Because I owe him,” he said sourly. “And trust me, Rafael’s not gonna let a debt like that go unpaid. No matter what it takes.”


	5. Regroup

Rafael was pacing.

He had the entire size and shape of the room memorized: four paces from the back of the room to the front, 3 paces across the width, and 5 stuttered paces back to the rear of the room, the added paces caused by trying to go around the slowly drying pool of blood.

It had been three hours and Sonny wasn’t back yet.

He’d finally gotten the stilted, assumedly somewhat truthful answers from the assembled guests about how they really felt about the sheriff, but even that process had only taken about an hour, leaving him with awkward silence as no one seemed to want to look at each other, let alone talk to each other, let alone acknowledge Rafael’s presence.

Which left him with nothing to do but brood.

And worry.

And pace.

The dining room door opened and Rafael whirled around, his relief disappearing when only Jason reentered the room, looking drawn and tired. “Where’s Sonny?” Rafael asked, his heart in his throat.

“He went back to your room,” Jason reported. “He sent me to tell everyone that you’re free to go back to your rooms for the night, but that you need to stay in your rooms for the rest of the night.”

No one really needed to be told twice. Between the scrape of chairs being pushed back from the table and the low murmur as everyone rushed out, Rafael caught Jason’s arm. “Why didn’t Sonny come tell us that himself?” he asked sharply.

“I don’t know,” Jason said tiredly, yanking his arm out of Rafael’s grasp. “Why don’t you go ask him yourself?”

Rafael scowled. “Oh, don’t worry,” he muttered, brushing past Jason and stalking toward their room. “I will.”

He made it back to their room in what had to have been record time, throwing the door open and glaring around. But Sonny wasn’t in the room, and for a moment, Rafael froze. Then he heard the sound of the sink running in the bathroom and his scowl returned in full force. “Dominick Francis Carisi Jr., you better get out here,” he all but snarled.

He heard the sink turn off and crossed his arms in front of his chest as he waited for Sonny to appear. “My middle name, Raf?” Sonny asked, poking his head out of the bathroom, looking just as tired as Jason had. “You channeling my ma now?”

“Better your mother than my father,” Rafael snapped.

Sonny frowned as he stepped out of the bathroom. “Don’t even joke about that,” he said seriously.

Rafael exhaled sharply. “Sorry,” he said, after a long moment. “But you better have a good excuse for why you sent Jason to dismiss us from the dining room rather than coming yourself.”

Sonny sighed. “Raf—”

“I mean, bad enough that I had to wait three hours with no idea what had happened to you or if you were alright when there might easily have been an armed murderer running around the house—”

“Can I just—” Sonny started.

Rafael ignored him.

“I know the other members of your squad have no issue gambling with their lives but I thought you knew better, Detective. And then to not even merit you coming in to tell me that you were alright? I mean, God, Sonny, do you even know what was going through my head?”

Sonny winced. “Rafael—”

“All of the worst case scenarios?” Rafael continued doggedly. “All of the ways you could have died or been injured or taken hostage? Bad enough that you dragged me here, bad enough that our hotel is now a crime scene, bad enough—”

“Rafael.” Sonny raised his voice, just slightly, and gripped Rafael’s arms, his touch gentle, almost reassuring. Not that Rafael was in any mood to be reassured. “Would you shut up for ten seconds and let me talk?”

Rafael glared at him. “Fine,” he snapped. “But you better have a damn good explanation.”

“I’m sorry,” Sonny told him, sincerity plain in his voice. “I honestly didn’t think of what it would to you if I wasn’t there with Jason. And I wish I had a good excuse, but the truth is…”

He trailed off, hesitating, and Rafael sighed, already knowing that whatever it was, he was going to forgive Sonny.

Rafael never used to have difficulty holding a grudge.

Sonny, as always, was the exception to every rule Rafael had ever made for himself.

“The truth is?” he prompted.

“The truth is, it’s been, like, six hours and I really needed to pee.”

Rafael stared at him for a long moment before snorting and shaking his head. “Christ’s sake, Sonny,” he huffed.

Sonny laughed. “I’m sorry, but you wanted the truth!” he said. “And that is the truth. Along with this — I love you. And I really am sorry.” He leaned in and kissed Rafael’s forehead, wrinkling his nose as he pulled back. “Babe you smell like a distillery.”

“I know,” Rafael sighed. “Don’t ask.” He leaned in and kissed Sonny lightly. “And I love you, too.”

Sonny half-smiled and turned, reaching up to tug at his tie. “So,” Rafael said, perching on the edge of the bed as Sonny started divesting himself of his tie and vest, “did you find anything?”

“No,” Sonny said, toeing his shoes off before flopping down on the bed next to him. “Not that I expected to.” He rolled onto his stomach and looked up at Rafael. “What about you?”

“Oh, I found a great many things,” Rafael muttered darkly. “But nothing concrete. Nothing that proves anything.”

“Whaddya mean?” Sonny asked, stifling a yawn.

Rafael dug into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled napkin he’d used in lieu of paper. “Well, while you were galavanting around the house,” he said sniffly, as Sonny rolled his eyes, “I was busy trying to sort out exactly what everyone’s situation was and where they were.”

He passed the napkin to Sonny, who sat up, looking over it, his brow furrowed.

“I see you really went all out with the table here,” Sonny said, sounding like he was trying not to laugh. “I mean, wow. Those lines are about as straight as you are.”

Rafael glared at him. “Shut up, I was writing on a  _ napkin _ and there’s a reason I’m a lawyer and not an artist.”

“Well given your limitations, I think you did a lovely job,” Sonny said with a snigger before his expression evened out. “And genuinely, I am impressed that you managed to get all of this out of them in a couple of hours.”

“It was easy oncy Stacy got drunk and outed everyone’s secrets,” Rafael said, deliberately casual, smirking when Sonny turned his head to gape at him. “Yeah. Exactly. Hence why I smell like a distillery. But once that happened, everyone was  _ much _ more forthcoming.”

Sonny nodded slowly, scanning the napkin carefully. “Well based on the way the bullet hit his chest, the most likely suspects were sitting across from him.” He pointed at the Angela, Mike and his own name on the drawing. “I like that you noted that I had no motive, so that would narrow us down to Angela and Mike.”

“Mm, not necessarily,” Rafael said, glancing over at the drawing.

Sonny frowned. “What do you mean?”

Rafael looked up at him. “I mean, you’re assuming that the sheriff was facing directly across the table when he was shot. But considering it sure sounded like he fell from a standing position rather than a sitting position, he would’ve stood up, and I imagine if he had, he would’ve turned toward the door, making these—” He indicated Stacy, Jason and Angela’s names. “—the more likely shooters.”

“Why would he have turned toward the door?” Sonny asked, his brow furrowed.

“Because he would’ve been going to see what was wrong with the lights.”

Sonny’s frown deepened. “And how the hell do you know that?”

Rafael rolled his eyes. “Because it’s what you did, you dolt,” he said impatiently. “For however much seemingly everyone hated him, not a single person said that Brian was bad at his job, which means his first instinct, like yours, would’ve been figuring out what was going on.” He narrowed his eyes at Sonny. “You should be very lucky the shooter didn’t pick you instead.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t random and since no one at that table had motive to kill me—” Rafael raised an eyebrow and Sonny sighed as he amended, “Since no one at the table besides  _ you _ had motive to kill me, I don’t really think I was in much danger.”

“That’s what you think,” Rafael muttered mutinously.

Sonny ignored him. “This is great, Raf,” he said instead, setting the napkin aside and giving Rafael a genuine if slightly tired smile. “Have I ever told you that I love how anal you are?”

Rafael pretended to consider it. “No, but I seem to recall you telling me how much you like anal…”

“Pervert,” Sonny said with a laugh, though his eyes darkened. “But speaking of…”

“No investigating left to do tonight?” Rafael asked, already grinning.

“Nothing that can’t keep til tomorrow,” Sonny murmured in between pressing kisses along the underside of Rafael’s jaw. “Not when I’ve got something so much more important to do.”

“Oh really?” Rafael teased, slightly breathless. “What did you have in mind?”

Sonny nipped lightly at Rafael’s pulse point. “Well,” he said, tracing a finger up the inseam of Rafael’s pants, “I do believe I owe you a blowjob.”

Rafael rolled his eyes even as Sonny’s fingers drew ever closer to their mark. “You owe me many,  _ many _ blowjobs,” he corrected, smirking. “But I’m more than willing to cash one in.”

“Just one?” Sonny asked with a filthy grin.

“If you think you’ve got more than one in you, I admire your confidence, Detective,” Rafael said coolly, leaning back in the bed and propping himself up on his elbows to watching Sonny at work.

Sonny smirked. “Oh, I’ve got plenty in me, old man,” he said, undoing the button on Rafael’s pants.

“If it’s a stamina battle you’re looking for, you’re on,” Rafael told him, his grin sharpening. “How long your jaw can hold out versus how long my—”

He was cut off by the sound of someone screaming.

Both Rafael and Sonny sat up, their smiles fading. “The fuck was that?” Rafael asked, eyes wide, while Sonny just shook his head and grabbed his sidearm from the nightstand.

“I dunno, but stay here,” he ordered. Rafael just gave him a look, already rebuttoning his pants, and Sonny sighed. “Fine, but stay behind me, alright?”

Together they made their way out of the bedroom, Sonny moving slowly, carefully, peering around every corner, just in case. But it didn’t take long to find the source of the screaming: Katie stood shaking in the middle of the great hall, staring in horror at the wall next to the fireplace. 

The deer head mounted on the wall was dripping with what looked like blood, and Rafael reached out blindly to grip Sonny’s arm, his eyes wide.

Written underneath the ghastly sight in crooked letters was the message, “ONE DOWN, EIGHT TO GO.”

Sonny swallowed, hard, and returned his gun to his holster, taking a few steps close to the wall before letting out what to Rafael looked like a sigh of almost relief. “Paint,” he reported. “Not blood.”

He turned back to Katie but before he or Rafael could offer her any comfort, seemingly every other guest in the house joined them, most of them looking confused and like they’d been asleep.

Rafael couldn’t believe that any of them had witnessed a murder and still were able to sleep.

“What’s going on?” Jason asked sharply, joining his wife and sitting her down on the couch, where she turned and buried her head against his shoulder.

“Someone’s having a bit of fun with us,” Sonny said grimly.

Angela whimpered. “But what if they want to kill us all?” she asked fearfully as her husband put an arm around her shoulders.

Murmurs broke out at that, everyone edging away from each other, and Sonny held his hands up for quiet. “Listen, I know things are scary right now, but I don’t have any reason to believe that the rest of us are in danger. In the meantime, I’m gonna be patrolling the house for the rest of the night just to make sure nothing like this happens again, ok?”

Rafael clenched his jaw so hard that he could practically hear his teeth groan at the pressure. Sonny conspicuously avoided looking at him as he told everyone, “Go back to your rooms and stay put. We’ll reconvene in the morning.”

Finally he looked back at Rafael and jerked his head back toward their room. Rafael followed him but before he could say one word of protest, Sonny slumped down on the edge of the bed, let out a shaky laugh, and told him, “I wasn’t gonna be able to sleep after that anyway.”

Rafael sighed and sat down next to him, snaking an arm around his waist and pulling him close before turning and pressing a kiss to Sonny’s temple. “You know what the worst part is?” he asked.

“What?”

“We have all this time where neither of us are going to be able to sleep, but that just completely ruined the mood.”

Sonny laughed, but it was short-lived, and they fell into an uneasy silence as they both mentally prepared for the long night ahead of them.


	6. The Morning After

Rafael slept horribly.

Frankly, he wasn’t entirely sure that he slept at all. Every time he felt himself uneasily drifting off to sleep, Sonny would get out of bed to patrol the house.

And Rafael would lie there, wide-awake, until Sonny slid back into bed, heaved a heavy sigh, and pulled Rafael back to his chest, an arm firmly around his waist, holding Rafael against himself.

Ordinarily, Rafael would’ve squirmed out of Sonny’s grip with a grumpy huff or a muttered joke about his Latin blood and gone to find cooler climes and a better sleep on the other side of the bed. But that night, with Sonny’s sidearm on the bedside table and red paint still staining his hands like blood, Rafael didn’t mind the heat if it meant hearing the dull thud of Sonny’s heart beating steadily against him.

He must’ve fallen asleep at some point, though, because he woke to Sonny pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Sorry,” Sonny whispered, brushing the hair off of Rafael’s forehead. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” Rafael told him through a yawn, and he half-attempted to sit up. “Are you coming back to bed?”

Sonny glanced at the clock, which was blinking a stead 6:30 back at them. “Nah,” he said with a sigh. “Not worth it at this point. Besides, I wanna see how the weather’s doing, if we’re gonna be able to get off this mountain at some point today.”

Rafael sighed and flopped back against the pillow. “God, I hope so,” he said, flinging an arm over his eyes. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Sonny made a small noise of agreement. “At least nothing else happened during the night,” he said, somewhat soothingly, reaching out to rub a comforting hand down Rafael’s side, his hand warm and gentle. “And with your drawing, we at least have something to go on.”

Though Rafael nodded, he also frowned slightly. “Speaking of the drawing,” he said, “something’s been bothering me.”

Sonny snorted. “Just something?” he quipped.

Rafael gave him a look. “When Stacy went on her little drunken rant, she said that Mike was involved with insider trading, but when I spoke to him later, Mike said that he had been charged with receiving a bribe.”

Sonny’s brow furrowed, and he shrugged, even as his hand stilled. “Maybe Stacy just got confused,” he suggested. “I mean, it’s not like she’s got the New York Penal Code memorized.” He poked Rafael’s stomach lightly. “Unlike someone I know.”

Rafael made an undignified squeak when Sonny poked him, and he pushed Sonny’s hand off him before sitting up. “Maybe, but bribery and insider trading are completely unrelated offenses. Besides which, one is a state crime and the other is federal. The SEC wouldn’t be involved in a bribery case, and if the sheriff was working with the SEC on something…”

He trailed off and Sonny nodded slowly. “Fair point,” he allowed. “So what, you think Mike is lying?”

“Maybe,” Rafael said, equally slowly. “Or maybe someone else isn’t telling the full truth about the dirt that the sheriff had on them.”

Sonny was silent for a long moment before sighing. “Just another twist in the case,” he murmured, before rolling over and pressing a kiss to Rafael's lips. "Class E felony, by the way."

"What?"

“Receiving a bribe,” Sonny said brightly, and when Rafael just stared at him, he grinned. “Oh, I just assumed we were gonna play that little game you love to play. You know, where you make me recite penal code citations while you suck—"

Rafael covered Sonny's mouth with his hand. “Firstly, that's not a game, and don't even pretend you don't get off on it as much as I do. Secondly, if memory serves,  _ you _ owe  _ me _ .”

Sonny licked Rafael's hand and Rafael scowled, starting to pull his hand back when Sonny dipped his head and sucked two fingers into his mouth, looking up at Rafael through his eyelashes. Rafael bit back a moan as Sonny hollowed his cheeks for a long moment before pulling off with a loud  _ pop _ . “Fine,” Sonny said easily. “Then let’s test your memory on the New York Penal Code.”

Rafael licked his lips, his eyes darkening as Sonny hooked his fingers into Rafael’s pajama pants, pulling them down with deliberate slowness. “You don’t want to play this game with me,” he warned, his breath hitching ever so slightly when Sonny mouthed at the growing bulge in his pants.

“Oh, but I do,” Sonny said, biting down lightly on Rafael’s hip and smirking when the other man cursed. “I want to see how long that brilliant legal mind can last before I turn it to mush.”

Rafael gave Sonny a predatory grin. “Fine,” he said hoarsely, “You’re on.” He leaned forward and pulled Sonny up to kiss him, opening his mouth against his and—

The alarm clock blared to life and Rafael jerked back, glaring from the offending object to Sonny. “You set an alarm?!” he demanded, his voice almost as shrill as the alarm clock.

Sonny made a noise that might have been a laugh, though it wilted quickly under Rafael’s glare and he quickly reached out to silence the clock. “Uh, yes?” he said, his voice cracking just slightly. “I didn’t know what was gonna happen last night, and at the time, I figured I’d get up early, check on things throughout the house…” He trailed off, quailing slightly under Rafael’s glare. “Kinda killed the mood, huh?”

“That’s certainly one way of putting it,” Rafael huffed, yanking his pajama pants back up and standing. 

Sonny let out a slight whining noise. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“To shower,” Rafael said frostily. “Without you, before you even ask.” His eyes narrowed. “And you’ll be lucky if there’s any hot water left when I’m done.”

Sonny rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I did it on purpose!” he protested, and when Rafael just turned his back on him and marched over to the stack of towels to grab one, Sonny sighed and leaned back on the bed. “Fine,” he said, his voice slightly strangled. “I need a cold shower anyway.”

Rafael just flipped him the bird as he strolled past on his way to the bathroom and a very long, very steamy shower to which Sonny was emphatically not invited.

* * *

 

By the time Rafael emerged from the bathroom — he had taken twice as long as he usually did because sleep-deprived Rafael and petty Rafael went hand in hand — Sonny had left and returned with an extra large mug of coffee, which he helpfully held up for Rafael. “Truce?” he offered.

Rafael’s expression softened. He never could stay mad at Sonny for long, even when the idiot did something completely asinine like set an alarm when they were on their murder vacation. “Truce,” he agreed, reaching for the coffee, and he barked a surprised laugh when Sonny tugged him into his lap and kissed him first. “What was that for?”

“Just because,” Sonny answered, finally handing over the cup of coffee. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

Sonny’s eyes narrowed. “That would’ve sounded a lot more convincing if you weren’t looking lovingly into your coffee.”

Rafael just smirked at him over the rim of his coffee cup before taking a large sip. “So did you learn anything about the weather?”

Sonny sighed. “Yeah, kitchen staff reports that the road is still blocked, meaning we’re very likely stuck up here another day.”

Rafael made a face. “Great,” he muttered. He glanced back at Sonny. “So what are you going to do today?”

Shrugging, Sonny tightened his grip on Rafael’s waist. “Keep investigating, I guess,” he said. “For lack of anything better to do.” He waggled his eyebrows at Rafael. “Although I  _ can _ think of something better we could do…”

Rafael swatted Sonny’s hand away as it crept toward his crotch. “After I’ve just showered?” he scoffed. “You know better than that.” Sonny laughed, but it was short-lived, and he fell silent for a long moment. Rafael took another sip of coffee and sighed. “Uh-oh,” he murmured, leaning in and kissing Sonny’s forehead. “I recognize that wrinkle. That’s the wrinkle you get when you can’t figure something out.”

Sonny rubbed absently at his forehead. “There’s a lot I can’t figure out,” he admitted. “To start, I gotta talk to Jason this morning about the house and who might’ve had access to the electricity before and after the remodel—”

“You can try,” Rafael told him, “but frankly, you’d be better off talking to Katie. This house has been in her family for generations, and she came out to oversee the renovations while Jason stayed in the city.” He took another sip of coffee. “Something she didn’t too happy about, by the way.”

Sonny frowned. “What are you talking about?” he asked. “Jason said the house has been in  _ his _ family for generations, and Katie was the one who wanted to turn it into a B&B.”

Rafael frowned as well. “Katie said it belonged to her family, and the rest of dinner guests — especially the ones who’ve lived in this area all their lives — backed her up,” he said. “In fact, she said she wanted to sell the house, but Jason insisted that they keep it and open a B&B.”

Sonny shook his head slowly. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he said. “I mean, bad enough that Jason opened a B&B in the first place, but for it to be his idea? He said he always wanted to be a closer, you know, like Alec Baldwin style—”

“I am familiar with Mamet, yes,” Barba said dryly. “Though in my experience, anyone who cites Glengarry Glen Ross as inspiration is probably a sociopath."

“Right, so then why would he step away from that lifestyle from that to open a B&B?” Sonny asked. “And for that matter, why would he send Katie to oversee the remodel if it was his idea in the first place?”

Rafael shrugged. “More importantly, why would he lie to you about whose idea it was? Or whose house it was in the first place?”

Sonny’s frown tightened. “Because he didn’t want me looking any further into it,” he said grimly. “That’s what perps do. It’s classic misdirection.”

“Perps?” Rafael repeated, giving Sonny a look. “Don’t go rushing to any conclusions—”

“I’m not,” Sonny told him, even as he helped Rafael off of his lap and stood, a determined look on his face. “I’m just following my gut.”

“You know that every time someone from your squad says they’re following their gut, my blood pressure skyrockets, right?” Rafael asked dryly.

Sonny managed a small smile at that. “Yeah, but this time you get to follow my gut, too.” He held his hand out to pull Rafael off the bed. “Now c’mon.”

Rafael made a small whining noise even as he let Sonny haul him to his feet. “Where are we going?” he asked.

“Well, if my gut is right and something strange is going on here, I’d imagine the sheriff would’ve poked around too,” Sonny said.

“Which means Jason would have the perfect reason to want him dead, before his investigation could go anywhere,” Rafael finished, following Sonny’s thoughts to their natural conclusion. “So what are you going to do?”

Sonny leaned in and pressed a kiss to Rafael’s temple. “Well first,  _ we _ are going to talk to the sheriff’s wife again, see if he mentioned anything about investigating this place, and also to get more information from her about the insider trading and SEC investigation,” Sonny told him. “Then we’re gonna take a look at the B&B’s books.”

Rafael twisted slightly to arch an eyebrow at Sonny. “Oh really?” he said dryly. “You and what warrant?”

Sonny smirked. “Jason gave me permission yesterday to use the computer in his office whenever I wanted. Meaning I don’t need a warrant to look at anything on his desktop — like, say, an Excel spreadsheet labelled ‘B&B Ledger’.”

“I really shouldn’t find you circumventing the Fourth Amendment as sexy as I do,” Rafael sighed.

Laughing, Sonny ducked down to kiss him once more. “Summary of our entire relationship, basically,” he teased. “Now c’mon. We’ve finally got a lead.”

“Then lead the way,” Rafael said simply, lacing his fingers with Sonny’s and following him out of the bedroom and after their first potential break in the investigation.


	7. Cooking the Books

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little later than intended, but hopefully I'm back on track to publishing this thing at a reasonable pace.
> 
> All of my love to AHumanFemale, without whom this chapter literally never would have happened. Love you more than life itself, darling — thank you for your help!!

Rafael and Sonny made their way out of their bedroom, and Rafael was surprised but a little gratified when Sonny squeezed his hand and pulled him a little bit closer. He shot a questioning look at Sonny, who just winked in response.

“Worried?” Rafael asked needlessly, already knowing the answer. “Or just going possessive on me and staking a claim?”

“You do have an effect on women,” Sonny allowed playfully.

“I have an effect on everyone,” Rafael said with just a hint of smugness. “It’s part of my charm.”

Sonny snorted. “I’m sure Judge Barth would wholeheartedly agree.”

The coffee Sonny had brought Rafael had helped soothe his previous bad mood. Having a plan of how they intended to tackle the day had helped even more. But Rafael would be lying if he said it wasn't Sonny’s smile that helped most of all, settling low in his gut and warming him from the center outwards.

If Sonny noticed the look on his face, he was tactful enough not to mention it. 

Instead, he pulled Rafael to him, dropping his hand only to wrap an arm around his shoulder and tug him close to press a kiss to his temple.

"Don't forget, Detective," Rafael murmured, even as he let Sonny pull him closer, "we're investigating a murder."

Leave it to him to ruin the mood.

But Sonny just chuckled. "As if murder investigations aren't your preferred form of foreplay," he teased.

"Slander," Rafael said, mock-scandalized. "All criminal investigations are my preferred form of foreplay."

Sonny laughed, but it was short-lived as they entered the kitchen and saw Stacy sitting at the kitchen table, her face pale and pinched, a massive mug of coffee in front of her. Rafael pulled away from Sonny's embrace, though he reached out and squeezed Sonny's hand once before they approached the widow, who looked up at them with red-rimmed eyes.

Rafael knew a rough night when he saw one, and that was without his significant other being murdered — an unwanted thought that send an arctic chill skittering over his bones, turning his stomach.

"Morning, Stacy," Sonny started easily, polite to a fault even as Rafael noted the gentleness in his tone. "Did you manage any sleep?"

How could she have? They certainly hadn't.

"Only if that's what happened between waking up with my head in the toilet bowl," she responded sourly and Rafael couldn't bring himself to blame her. Her blue eyes had even darker blue circles beneath them, puffier with the hangover she wore like a funeral shroud around her shoulders. She added dryly, "You know how it goes with these parties."

"I do,"  Sonny agreed and sat down across from her. Apparently her husband's murder wasn't going to be discussed, at least not at face value. At least not yet. "Is the coffee helping at least?"

"I'm less inclined to go throw myself into a snow drift, if that's what you're asking."

Despite himself, Rafael managed a rueful snort. “You’re telling me,” he said, running a hand across his face as he perched on the table next to Sonny, a position he’d occupied many times before, though never under these kinds of circumstances. “If it wasn’t for coffee, I don’t know how I’d’ve gotten out of bed today.”

Stacy’s smile was brittle. “Yes, well, I thankfully had the little matter of my husband’s murder to attend to as well.”

Rafael sucked in a breath. 

So much for the murder not being discussed.

Sonny didn’t seem perturbed by her tone. “We’re after the same thing here,” he said calmly. “We all want to figure out who killed your husband.”

Stacy didn’t look impressed as she drained her mug of coffee. “Sure, but you want to figure it out so you can arrest them,” she said. “I just want to shake their hand and thank them.”

Sonny flinched, and Rafael reached out automatically to touch his shoulder. Sonny could do sympathy for the worst humanity had to offer, but bitter cynicism? That was Rafael’s purview, and even in the heat of the moment, Rafael had to admit that in that regard, they made a good team.

"Something tells me you were missing the marital bliss," he surmised, tone wry, as Sonny got up to get Stacy — and Rafael, which warmed him more than it had any right to — a refill on coffee.

Not quite good cop, bad cop — perhaps something closer approximating good cop, jaded attorney who a few years ago wouldn't have even considered marital bliss an option. Still, Stacy scoffed and it seemed that his bitterness had managed to land in a kindred soul. 

"Yeah, no," she admitted, accepting the refilled mug from Sonny and taking another long pull from it as though it were the vodka from the night before. "Our marriage hadn't been blissful in a long time. How could it be? With Brian being so...who he was."

"It sounds like he was a...complicated person," Sonny offered kindly. Possibly too kindly, if Stacy's cutting gaze was anything to go by.

"He was a bastard," she corrected pointedly. "A first-rate one, though. I'll give him that."

"But a bastard who was good at his job," Rafael added, equally pointed, and it was Sonny's turn to snort appreciatively.

"Yeah, because I wouldn't have any clue what  _ that's _ like," he said, layering the sarcasm on thick.

Were it any other circumstance, Rafael might've taken offense, but firstly, if the boot fit, he couldn't quite get mad at it, and secondly, there was a part of him that absolutely loved this part of Sonny, the part that could adapt to any circumstance thrown his way, no matter how much it differed from his own thoughts and feelings.

It was as ruthless as his lover got, and all the more when he got to give Rafael a backhanded compliment in the process.

He'd take it, enjoy it even as he moved on and asked, "All the things you said last night — was that information accurate?"

"You might have to remind me," she said. "Any memory I have of the night got flushed about three a.m."

Rafael frowned, though given the amount of alcohol she’d had, her fuzzy memory wasn’t exactly a surprise. "How much do you know about what your husband was working on at any given time?"

Pensive, she took another drink and Rafael watched Sonny move for the coffee pot out of the corner of his eye. Wordlessly the detective topped her off, warming what was left enough that it gave a lazy curl of steam from the mouth of the mug. She nodded in thanks and then turned her attention back to Rafael.

"Depends. Some things he'd talk about, some he wouldn't." She cleared her throat. "Typically he only talked to me about it if it was a sure thing. Anything that he thought he could brag about, knowing that I’d be reading about it in the paper sooner or later." Her mouth twisted wryly. “He always did like to be the center of attention. I guess this was just one final way of doing so.”

“He talked to you about Mike’s case.”

Sonny didn’t word it as a question, and Stacy switched her gaze from Rafael to Sonny. “Yeah,” she said, bluntly. “Brian was real proud of that one. He’s always hated Mike for marrying Angela — you know they used to date in high school?”

“Brian and Angela?” Sonny asked, to confirm what Stacy had said the day before.

Stacy nodded. “Yeah. So when Brian busted Mike, he couldn’t wait to tell me.”

A note of something like jealousy soured her tone, and Rafael and Sonny exchanged glances. “And he busted Mike for accepting a bribe, right?”

“Something like that,” Stacy said dismissively. “Some white collar crime that’ll involve minimal jail time, you know how that goes.”

“That I do,” Sonny said, his tone dark, and Rafael knew without even looking at him that Sonny was thinking about all the rapists and serial abusers who’d done time for white collar crimes alone because they couldn’t convict them for the things they’d really done.

Rafael knew that feeling well.

“What about insider trading?” he asked, hoping to shift the conversation in the direction they needed it to go.

Stacy blinked at him. “What about it?” she asked blankly.

“Last night, you said that Mike had been charged with insider trading,” Rafael said carefully.

“Did I?” Stacy asked, baffled, and Rafael surmised that she either had genuinely no recollection of what she’d said, or else was an incredibly good actor.

“Maybe you just got confused,” Sonny said, flashing her a tight smile, leaning in closer to her. “It’s so easy to get mixed up with all this legal jargon. I mean, I’m a cop and half the time I forget what’s what, y’know?”

Rafael’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Sonny — a warning, not to lay it on too thick. The corner of Sonny’s mouth twitched, the only indication that he’d seen the look Rafael gave him, never looking away from Stacy, who managed a small, tired smile. “I probably just got confused,” she agreed. “I don’t even think Brian was working on anything much recently.” Sonny nodded and sat back in his seat, his shoulders slumping slightly with what Rafael read as disappointment, until— “Other than whatever he was doing with the SEC, anyway.”

“The SEC?” Rafael repeated, his tone sharper than he intended. “Did he say what he was working on with them?”

Stacy considered it for a moment, then shook her head. “No,” she said, “just that whatever it was would ‘shake up’ this entire town.” Rafael and Sonny again exchanged glances and Stacy laughed dryly. “Don’t take that too seriously,” she warned them. “My husband said that about all the cases he consulted on. It’s a small town — a speeding ticket would shake things up.” 

Sonny cracked an appreciative grin. “So he didn’t say anything about an insider trading case with the SEC?”

“Not that I remember, but I know that’s one of things the SEC investigates, so that’s probably where I got it from,” Stacy said with a shrug.

“Right,” Sonny said, a touch dully, and Rafael gently laid his hand against Sonn’s arm. He knew that Sonny was disappointed, that he had wanted to concretely know if his hunch about Jason was correct or not, but it wasn’t Stacy’s fault that she couldn’t remember.

Unless if she was the murderer, and this entire thing was a wild goose chase.

And wasn’t that a reassuring thought.

“Thank you for your help,” Rafael told Stacy, who just shrugged and drained her coffee mug for a second time.

He looked at Sonny and jerked his head toward the kitchen door, his meaning clear, and Sonny stood, both men starting towards the door.

“Detectives—” Rafael and Sonny paused and looked back at her. “I know you’re just doing your jobs trying to figure out who killed my husband, but don’t bother trying too hard.” Stacy’s expression was stony. “He won’t be all that missed, least of all by me.”

Sonny’s expression darkened but Rafael gave her a curt nod before pushing the kitchen door open and holding it for Sonny to follow him outside. They walked together in silence for a long moment before Sonny said abruptly, “Hey, uh, do me a favor, would you?”

Rafael paused and frowned at Sonny, whose forehead was creased, his expression serious. “Depends on what the favor is,” Rafael said warily.

Sonny jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the kitchen. “If you ever hate me that much, if I ever make you that unhappy, please just end things with me. Sooner, rather than later.”

“Sonny,” Rafael sighed, rolling his eyes, but Sonny reached out and grabbed his arm.

“I’m serious, Rafael,” Sonny said, and Rafael knew he was. He could hear it in Sonny’s voice, feel it in his fingers pressed against his arm, read it in every furrow of Sonny’s brow. “I know we have a good thing going here, but—”

“Stop,” Rafael commanded softly, carefully pulling his arm out of Sonny’s grasp so that he could instead draw the other man in, close enough that Rafael could reach up and kiss him. “You and I are nothing like Brian and Stacy were. I  _ was _ that unhappy once, but that was before I had you. Now I’m the happiest I have ever been.”

Sonny’s expression softened and he kissed Rafael lightly. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, too,” he said quietly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Rafael said, lacing his fingers firmly with Sonny’s once more as they headed toward Jason’s office. “Although,” he added contemplatively, “I can think of a way that I would be happier — in Miami and not in the middle of a literal crime scene.”

Sonny groaned. “Am I ever going to get to stop apologizing for this?” he asked, mostly rhetorically.

“Cute,” Rafael said. “Also, no.”

They paused in front of Jason’s office door. “What do you think we’ll find?” Rafael asked.

“Hopefully, nothing,” Sonny said.

Rafael gave him a look. “I asked what you  _ think _ we’ll find, not  _ hope _ we’ll find.”

Sonny sighed. “Evidence,” he said, after a long moment. “And not the exonerating kind.”

With that, he pushed the door open and made a beeline for the Apple desktop on the desk, pressing spacebar to wake the computer up from sleep. “No password?” Rafael asked skeptically, hovering over Sonny’s shoulder. “If he is a white collar criminal, he’s not a very smart one.”

Sonny barked a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, I remember Jason at Fordham,” he said, clicking on the file he had seen the day before. “He was passionate, but not the brightest.”

“Unlike you, who brought both passion and brains to the table.”

Sonny rolled his eyes. “Something like that anyway.”

Rafael lowered his head to murmur in Sonny’s ear, “That was me telling you, not asking you.”

He pressed a kiss to Sonny’s temple, and Sonny temporarily brightened, though it was short-lived. “Son of a bitch,” he said, pointing at a column on the spreadsheet. “See that right there?”

“Yes.” Rafael’s implied, “And…?” hung in the air, unspoken.

“Those are dates, supposedly for dates when guests stayed at the B&B.”

“Thank you, Detective, because I managed to get through Harvard Law School without ever learning to read,” Rafael said dryly.

Sonny turned and scowled at him. “Look at the dates,” he ordered, jabbing at the screen. “Do you notice anything weird?”

Rafael peered at the screen. “No?” he said, pitching it as a question and already regretting the fact that Sonny was going to lord this over him for the rest of their trip at least.

But Sonny was more preoccupied with the spreadsheet than the fact that he’d noticed something Rafael hadn’t. “These dates go back for  _ months _ ,” Sonny said, scrolling up in the spreadsheet. “And this is supposed to be the soft opening this weekend, meaning the B&B wasn’t even open for any of these dates.”

Rafael nodded slowly. “I don’t suppose this has anything to do with insider trading,” he said, aiming for a joke but not quite reaching it.

Sonny shook his head slowly. “No,” he admitted, sitting back in the chair. “But it does have to do with something else that the SEC would be investigating.” He sighed. “This much cash being moved through a business before it’s even opened? We’re looking at money laundering.”

“Are you sure?” Rafael asked quietly.

Sonny shrugged. “I’ll admit, my expertise isn’t in financial crimes, but it’s the only reason I can think of for why there’d be several months of dummy stays at a B&B that isn’t even open. Jason’s been taking his client’s dirty money and passing it through the B&B to make it legit. And given how extensive this is, I’d imagine there was a helluva lot of money at stake.” Sonny sighed again. “And people have killed for a lot less. If the sheriff was on to him and willing to involve the SEC...”

He trailed off, and Rafael looked at him closely. “I’m sorry,” he offered, and Sonny frowned up at him.

“What’re you sorry for?” he asked, turning back to the computer to print the spreadsheet out.

“That it was your friend,” Rafael said simply, and Sonny’s shoulders tensed. “I know a little something of what that’s like.”

Sonny stood, reaching over to grab the printout from the printer before turning back to Rafael and leaning in to kiss his forehead. “Thanks,” he said quietly, “but this is nothing like happened with Alex Muñoz.”

Rafael frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, for starters, Jason and I were never  _ that _ close,” Sonny told him, reaching out to grab both of Rafael’s hands in his. “And besides, I have you, and that makes all the difference.”

Rafael’s expression softened, but before he could say anything, the office door opened and Jason stepped inside. “Hey,” he said, “I was just coming to check in—” He paused, a slightly sheepish expression crossing his face. “Oh, uh, did I interrupt something?”

“Nothing that can’t wait,” Sonny said, dropping Rafael’s hands and turning to face Jason, and Rafael couldn’t help but notice that Sonny took a half-step in front of him, keeping himself between Jason and Rafael like the self-sacrificing idiot that he was. “I actually need to talk to you.”

Jason’s eyes flicked over to the computer screen and the spreadsheet still pulled up and something like panic flared in his expression. “I, uh, I can explain—” he started, but Sonny took his head, taking a step forward.

“Honestly, Jace, I don’t think you can. And what’s more, I don’t think you’re gonna wanna. Not to me at least.” He squared his shoulders and looked Jason dead in the eyes. “Jason McConnell, I am taking you into custody under suspicion of murdering Brian Thompson. Though I do not have the authority to place you under arrest, you should consider yourself in police custody until further notice, which means that anything more that you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

“I know my Miranda Rights, Sonny, but you’ve got the wrong guy,” Jason pleaded, and Sonny just shook his head, closing a hand around Jason’s elbow.

“You  _ really _ don’t want to say anything more to me,” he said, his voice low. “Not until you consult with an attorney.”

“You and I are both attorneys, Jesus fucking Christ, Sonny—”

Sonny cut him off. “But I’m not your attorney, Jason. And this situation, I’m not a lawyer at all. I’m just a cop.”

Jason looked almost pleadingly at Rafael, who arched an eyebrow at him. “If you’re hoping for sympathy from this corner, you really have got the wrong end of things,” Rafael said coolly. “I know where my loyalties lie.”

“You have to at least give me a chance to explain!” Jason burst. “Please! I didn’t kill Brian, I swear to you. And I know what it looks like, but — I didn’t do it!”

Sonny looked over at Rafael, something almost pained in his expression, and Rafael had a sudden flashback to confronting Alex Muñoz at the Police Association Ball. “You have five minutes,” Rafael said coldly. “So start talking. And remember what the detective told you — because I’m more than happy to use anything that you say against you.”


	8. Interrogation and Alibi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my love to AHF for the beta, the suggestion, and for just being an all-around incredible friend <3

“You heard the man,” Sonny said, giving Jason an equally cold look. “Start talking. Now.”

Jason let out a noise like a wounded animal and pushed past them to drop into the computer desk chair, cradling his head in his hands. “I don’t…” he started, his voice more like a whimper than anything. “I don’t know where to start.”

Rafael rolled his eyes and shot a glance at Sonny that clearly said,  _ This is your friend — deal with it _ . Sonny sighed and took a step forward to perch on the edge of the desk. “Let’s start with the insider trading,” he said calmly. “And then let’s talk about how you went from one white collar crime to another and talk about the money laundering.”

“Would you believe me if I said that it started as an accident?” Jason asked pleadingly. “Because it did.”

“Did you  _ accidentally _ engage in insider trading, or did you  _ accidentally _ refurbish a house to turn into a B&B to launder money?” Rafael asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Sonny shot him a look but Jason just laughed weakly, drawing a hand across his face. “Both?” he said, pitching it more as a question than an answer. “Well, I mean, the refurbishing the house wasn’t really an accident, but…”

He trailed off and Sonny sighed. “Ok,” he said, “so tell us how it started.”

Jason licked his lips nervously, his eyes darting between Sonny and Rafael as if trying to decide which was going to be more sympathetic. He decided on Sonny, shifting in the chair so that he was almost fully facing him.

Rafael thought that was probably a wise choice.

“So like I said, it started as an accident,” Jason said. “I was on this conference call with some investors from China…”

Jason launched into a lengthy, rambling story about overhearing some market-sensitive information regarding potential sales of a corporation, but Rafael mostly tuned him out. He knew how this story went, the same as any story behind white collar crime: Jason discovered a way to make some money off the books and then took steps to continue to make money, even manipulating his wife to turn her family’s home into a front to continue his illegal profiting.

He would’ve paid more attention when Sonny spoke — Sonny in an interrogation would always be one of Rafael’s favorite things, watching the way Sonny would try to get in a perp’s head, push their buttons, and morph himself into someone they would find sympathetic, all without losing the steel and drive that banded his resolve — but for whatever reason, Sonny seemed content to just listen as Jason worked through his story.

Not that it stopped Rafael from paying attention to Sonny. Sonny in general was Rafael’s favorite thing, and he learned more from every shift in Sonny’s expression than he would’ve from listening to Jason ramble.

It was quite possible that Rafael had a problem.

“You know what I don’t understand?” Sonny asked slowly, when Jason’s long-winded explanation finally trailed off. “I don’t get  _ why _ — why you would do any of this. You went straight from law school to working in one of the top firms in Manhattan before you even passed the Bar. You  _ can’t _ tell me it was for the money.”

Rafael rolled his eyes. “Of course it was for the money,” he said impatiently. “It’s always for the money.”

“It was for the money,” Jason admitted, and Rafael gave Sonny a somewhat triumphant ‘I told you so’ look, which Sonny pointedly ignored. “I mean, you wouldn’t get it, Sonny, but I graduated from Fordham with a shitload of student loans—”

“I wouldn’t  _ get _ it?” Sonny interrupted, his brow furrowed. “I’m a fucking cop, Jace. I grew up on Staten Island. How the fuck do you think I put myself through law school if not student loans?”

Jason shook his head. “It’s not the same for you, though,” he argued. “You’re single — or, well, you were single. You weren’t supporting a wife who expected a certain lifestyle that you weren’t able to provide—”

“A certain lifestyle?” Sonny scoffed. “Katie loves you, you dumbass, and she wouldn’t leave you just because you had to cut back on your vacations or—”

“Oh, yeah, she loves me alright,” Jason said dully. “Which is why she was sleeping with Brian.”

Sonny flinched, and Rafael realized that he must’ve forgotten about Katie’s affair. “So, what?” Rafael asked skeptically, saving Sonny from scrambling for something to say. “Your wife slept with another guy and therefore you had to commit multiple felonies to win her back? Because correct me if I’m wrong, since I was only half paying attention because white tears bore me after awhile, but this all ‘accidentally’ started before Katie’s affair with Brian.”

Something darkened in Jason’s expression, as if he hadn’t thought that Rafael and Sonny would realize that. Sonny glanced between Rafael and Jason, his own expression calculating. “Is that true?” he asked.

“It wouldn’t make sense otherwise,” Rafael said, before Jason could answer. “They were living together in Manhattan, right? Katie only came back out this way to oversee renovations to the house when they decided to turn it into a B&B, which was after the insider trading when Jason needed a place to clean his money.”

“Ok, so she wasn’t sleeping with Brian when I started,” Jason admitted somewhat reluctantly, “but she was unhappy. Why do you think she was looking for an affair in the first place?”

“She was unhappy after you already started bringing in money illegally to support her — what was it you called it — ‘certain lifestyle’?” Rafael asked, tilting his head slightly. “Doesn’t seem like your rationale for why you did this is holding up. “

Jason stared at him, fury and panic mingled in his expression, and Rafael allowed himself a small smirk. As much as he loved watching Sonny in an interrogation, dealing with a hostile witness was Rafael’s specialty, and he loved making someone who deserved it fall apart on the stand. “So you make millions illegally and it still doesn’t buy your wife happiness, but hey, at least you’re still rich. Then tell me, which made you pull the trigger: your wife screwing another guy, or the guy your wife was screwing threatening to ruin the nice little profits you were laundering for yourself?”

“Neither,” Jason snapped, “because I didn’t do it.”

Sonny held his hands up placatingly. “You said that you could explain,” he said evenly, “but none of your explanation has convinced us that you didn’t shoot Brian.”

Jason sagged in the chair, all of the fight seeming to leave him. “I know that,” he said miserably. “And I don’t...I don’t know what else I can say to convince you other than to say that everything I did was to make my wife happy, and shooting her ex-lover in cold blood sure as shit hasn’t made her happy.”

“So your alibi is your wife’s happiness,” Rafael said with a snort. “Forgive me for not buying it.”

“I don’t have an alibi,” Jason said, glaring up at him. “But nor does anyone else.”

“Fair enough,” Sonny said, shifting slightly as if to step between Jason and Rafael if needed, and Rafael was really going to need to have a conversation with him about his misguided protective streak. “What about for the writing on the wall? Do you have an alibi for that at least? Can Katie attest to you being in bed?”

If possible, Jason looked even more uncomfortable. “Um, no,” he said, looking away from Sonny. “No, um, I wasn’t with her that night. But—” A blush rose in his cheeks. “Someone else can alibi me.”

Sonny didn’t blink. “Who?”

“Colette,” Jason mumbled, still unable to meet Sonny’s eyes. “Colette Simard. The, uh, the worker you spoke to yesterday in the kitchen.”

Sonny did blink at that, and Rafael knew from the look on his face that he was grasping at some kind of plausible explanation for why a server from the kitchen would know of Jason’s nighttime whereabouts that didn’t involve infidelity. “What, was she making you a midnight snack?” Rafael asked dryly. “Or was she the midnight snack?”

Jason’s blush deepened and he shrugged. “Ah, the sanctity of marriage,” Rafael snarked, his lip curling.

Sonny shook his head, disappointment plain in his expression. “How long have you been having an affair with one of your staff members?” he asked bluntly.

“Awhile,” Jason mumbled. “But I was, um, with her. When I heard Katie scream.”

“But let’s not forget,” Rafael spat, “you did all this for your wife.” He glanced at Sonny, who was looking at Jason with something like open disgust, and sighed. “And I assume Ms. Simard will be willing to vouch for your company last night?”

Jason looked up at him. “Of course,” he said, a little surprised. “I mean, go ask her. She wouldn’t lie.”

“Fine,” Sonny said shortly. “Rafael can go talk to her, and you and I will stay here.”

“Excuse me?” Rafael said, raising an eyebrow at Sonny, who rolled his eyes.

“The man’s a murder suspect, Raf,” he said impatiently. “I’m not giving him an opportunity to escape.”

Rafael gave him a look. “And I’m not leaving you alone with a murder suspect. And before you even try to pull the ‘I have a gun, I’ll be fine’ thing, if your friend here is the murderer, he has a gun, too, and your reflexes aren’t what they used to be.”

Sonny scowled and sighed, glancing back at Jason. “If only we had an electronic monitoring device,” he muttered. “Like an electronic anklet like they use for house arrest, you know?”

Rafael brightened. “Something GPS enabled, maybe?” he said.

“Yes…” Sonny said warily, and tried to yank his arm away from Rafael’s grip when he grabbed it. “What the hell are you doing?!”

Rafael ignored him, unbuckling Sonny’s Apple Watch and holding it up triumphantly. “Voila! GPS enabled electronic monitoring device.”

“Yeah, ok, technically it is,” Sonny grumbled, rubbing his wrist, which almost certainly didn’t actually actually hurt. “But what’s to stop him from taking it off and running anyway?”

Rafael shrugged as he strapped Sonny’s watch onto Jason’s wrist. “The fact that if he wants any chance of proving he’s innocent, he won’t move from this room.”

He said the words calmly enough, but the threat was implicit, and Jason’s eyes widened. “I won’t, I swear,” he assured them. “I didn’t do this and if staying here while you talk to Colette is what it takes, I’m more than happy to do so.”

“Good,” Sonny said, not looking at Jason as he held out his hand for Rafael. “Then stay here. We’ll be back.”

Rafael took Sonny’s hand but couldn’t resist giving Jason one final scathing look before letting Sonny lead him outside, where they paused as the door closed behind them, both letting out identical weary sighs. Rafael glanced at Sonny. “Sorry your friend’s a sack of shit.”

Sonny snorted and shook his head. “You’re not wrong,” he muttered. “That was…”

He trailed off and Rafael nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said tiredly. Sonny gave Rafael a measured look, something softening in his expression, and Rafael’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t even say it,” he said warning. “You and I are not going to one day cheat on each other, and if, heaven forbid, one of us did, the other is not going to cheat with someone else in some convoluted revenge fantasy.”

Sonny managed a small laugh, his expression still soft. “That wasn’t what I was gonna say, but good to know.”

“Then what?” Rafael asked.

Sonny shrugged. “I just feel like if any man’s gonna wear my Apple Watch, it should be you.”

Rafael stared at him for a long moment before rolling his eyes. “That would  _ almost _ be romantic,” he said, “if that watch weren’t so hideous, anyway.”

“Shut up,” Sonny said with a laugh. “You’re just jealous that there’s no compatible watch for the Blackberry.”

“Ah, yes,” Rafael said dryly. “You’ve cracked the case, Detective. My loathing of your ever-present, ugly and unnecessary Apple device stems solely from misguided jealousy.” He raised an eyebrow at Sonny. “Much like your jealousy of Jason wearing said watch instead of me.”

It was Sonny’s turn to roll his eyes. “Whatever,” he huffed. “That’s the last time I try to express a romantic sentiment.”

He started to brush past Rafael toward the kitchen but Rafael caught his hand, pulling him close so he could reach up and kiss him. “I love your romantic sentiments,” he said.

Sonny half-smiled. “Yeah, you love mocking them.”

“In my defense, if you didn’t make it so easy, it wouldn’t be nearly as fun.”

Though Sonny managed a laugh, it was short lived, his brow furrowing. “All joking aside, we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands. Talking to Colette isn’t gonna prove anything one way or another.”

“It’ll prove Jason didn’t paint the wall,” Rafael pointed out.

Sonny shook his head. “Yeah, but what we haven’t proved is that whoever painted the wall  _ is _ the killer. We’re just assuming that they are.”

“Damnit,” Rafael said, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. “Ok, but let’s think about this logically — who else besides the killer would benefit from painting the wall like that?” Sonny gave him a look and Rafael sighed again. “I know, I know, it’s circumstantial at best, but all the evidence we have thus far is circumstantial. I’m exceedingly grateful that I don’t have to prosecute this shit show. But for the moment, I’d rather we had all the evidence at our disposal, no matter how circumstantial it may be, and that includes Jason’s alibi for painting the wall.”

Sonny considered that for a moment, then shrugged. “You have a point,” he acknowledged, giving Rafael a grin. “You’re lucky that you’re cute when you’re right.”

“Please,” Rafael scoffed. “I’m always cute.” He kissed Sonny once more. “Now come on. Let’s go interrogate this kitchen worker and see if Jason’s alibi holds water.”

Hand-in-hand, they started toward the kitchen, Sonny unusually quiet, wrapped in his thoughts if the furrow of his brow was any indication, and Rafael sighed. Usually their positions were reversed, with Sonny determined to pull Rafael out of his thoughts, and he didn’t what to say to try to make things better.

Rafael had never been all that good at comfort, normally finding his own solace in facts and logic. Normally, at least, until Sonny came into his life. Now Rafael found more comfort in a knowing look or the gentle squeeze of his hand or a light kiss on his forehead than he had ever thought was possible.

He just wished he could offer Sonny the same thing.

“You know everything’s going to be ok, right?” he said instead, and Sonny glanced over at him, brow furrowing further in a questioning look. “We’ll figure out who did it, or if not, we’ll pass off what we find to the proper authorities tomorrow when we finally get off this mountain. And then you and I will go back to our real jobs where we…” Rafael purposefully trailed off and managed a small smirk. “Well, where we do the same thing, really, just a lot more competently.” 

It had his desired effect. Sonny grinned, his brow smoothing as his dimples deepened on his cheeks. “You’re not wrong about that,” he chuckled, putting an arm around Rafael’s shoulders and pulling him close to kiss his temple.

“Besides—” Rafael started, breaking off when they heard a distant BANG from the kitchen, and both men froze. “Was that—?”

Sonny’s expression darkened and he pulled his gun. “Yeah,” he said, flicking the safety off. “I’m pretty sure it was.” He glanced sideways at Rafael, stress tightening his expression further. “I’d tell you to stay here, but—”

“Not on your life, Detective,” Rafael said grimly, and Sonny sighed, his shoulders tensing, but he didn’t argue, just tightened his grip on his gun as they doubled their pace toward the kitchen and the unmistakable sound of a gunshot.


	9. Square One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only about three weeks late with this chapter...oops.
> 
> Much thanks to ships-to-sail for the beta!!

Sonny grabbed the doorknob with his free hand and glanced over his shoulder at Rafael, the glance meant to be a clear warning to stay behind him. Rafael rolled his eyes. He might insist on accompanying Sonny, but he wasn’t a big enough idiot to stand _in front_ of the guy with the gun.

No, that was something his idiot boyfriend would do.

Sonny turned back to the door, took a deep breath, and shoved the door open, shouting as he did, “NYPD, hands where I can see them!”

Rafael ignored his first instinct, which was to remind Sonny that he didn’t really have to announce himself as NYPD since he didn’t exactly have jurisdiction, instead trying to peer over Sonny’s shoulder to see who had been shot. He saw red splattered across the kitchen and swallowed, hard.

For as long as he had been an ADA, he didn’t typically go to the crime scene, and therefore didn’t typically deal with this much blood.

Then again, as he slowly followed Sonny into the kitchen, he was dating an Italian, and if there was one thing he did frequently deal with, and could easily recognize after a closer examination, it was—

“Tomato sauce,” Sonny announced, sounding torn between amusement and exasperation as the kitchen staff stared at him, all of their hands in the air, the clear scent of canned tomato sauce exuding from every surface.

The girl Sonny was pointing his gun at — and assumed perpetrator of the crime against Ragú — burst into tears. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking like a leaf. “I dropped it — it was an accident!”

‘It’ appeared to be a large metal dish and the source of the tomato sauce splattered across the kitchen, and Sonny instantly holstered his gun and crossed to her. “It’s ok,” he said soothingly, rubbing her arm in a reassuring manner. “We heard the noise and we just thought something else had happened.”

He shot Rafael a look as if asking for assistance, but Rafael was busy looking at the rest of the staff. “We’re looking for Colette Simard,” he told them, and the staff exchanged glances. “Do you know where she is?”

A few of the staff members glanced at the back door and Rafael took that as confirmation, sidling past Sonny and the still-crying girl to open the door and poking his head out. The woman he assumed was Colette was smoking a cigarette, though she quickly dropped it when she saw him. “Colette Simard?” he asked, and she nodded warily. “My name is Rafael Barba. We need to ask you a couple of questions about your relationship with Jason McConnell.”

“We?” she questioned with a thick accent, and as if on cue, Sonny appeared over Rafael’s shoulder.

Colette seemed relieved to see him, and Rafael remembered that she had talked to Sonny the day before. “Hey,” Sonny said, flashing her a brief — and somewhat duller than usual — smile. “How are you doing today?”

She shrugged. “Fine,” she said cautiously, before glancing at Rafael. “You said — some questions?”

“Just a few,” Sonny assured her with another smile. “Starting with your boyfriend. You said you tried to call him yesterday?” Colette nodded, looking confused. “So how does he feel about you having an affair with your boss?”

To Rafael’s surprise, Colette rolled her eyes. “It is not an affair,” she practically spat, glaring at them both. “I come to America to work, to make money to send home. I only do what I am paid to do.”

Sonny looked confused but realization washed over Rafael like a wave. “So Jason was paying you to sleep with him,” he said, and Sonny looked at him sharply.

Colette shrugged. “I make more money, I go home sooner. It is — how do you say — a win-win.”

Sonny shook his head slowly. “And were you with Jason last night?” he asked, something almost resigned in his tone. She nodded, and Sonny sighed. “Do you remember what time?”

“No,” Colette said. “But he left when he heard his wife scream.”

She said it so matter-of-factly, like it didn’t faze her in the slightest, but Rafael knew from the look on Sonny’s face that it was going to take him some time to come to terms with this latest revelation. “Thanks,” he told Colette, taking Sonny’s arm. “That’s all the questions we have right now.”

He steered Sonny back inside, the two of them walking in silence until they were back in the hallway. Only then did Sonny’s hands unclench from the fists they had been balled in. “Christ,” he muttered, running a shaky hand over his face. “I don’t know whether to report him to the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission or arrest him for solicitation.”

“Well, you can’t really do the latter, since this isn’t your jurisdiction,” Rafael reminded him, though he made sure to keep his tone light, knowing that Sonny was undoubtedly shaken by the realization that someone he considered a friend was this big a shitbag. “But we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands anyway.”

“Jason didn’t paint the wall,” Sonny confirmed with a sigh.

“Meaning we’re back to square one.”

For a long moment, they both just looked at each other, and then Sonny sighed again. “Well, since Jason could have an accomplice, he’s still not off the hook,” he said. “I’m gonna tell him to consider himself under house arrest, and to stay in his bedroom for the time being.”

Rafael frowned slightly, noting the way Sonny’s shoulders sagged despite the line of tension that ran across them. “And then you should get some sleep,” he said, in a tone that brooked no argument. “Especially since I imagine you’re going to want to patrol the house again tonight.”

“You know me too well,” Sonny said with a small smile, reaching out to draw Rafael closer. “Meaning you should know what I’m going to suggest we do before I sleep…”

He leaned in to kiss Rafael, only to be stopped but Rafael’s hand firmly planted on his chest. “Nice try,” Rafael said, amused. “And I might even be tempted — if I thought you could stay awake long enough for it to be fun.”

Sonny’s eyes darkened. “Oh, it’ll be fun,” he promised, but Rafael didn’t budge.

“You said that the last time you pulled a double, and if memory serves, you ended up falling asleep on top of me and my poor, neglected dick. So, forgive me if I’m not willing to take that chance,” he said dryly.

“Fine,” Sonny huffed, though if Rafael wasn’t mistaken, he actually looked a little relieved. “What are you gonna do to entertain yourself while I’m asleep?”

Rafael shrugged. “Well, with Jason mostly out of the way, we’ve still got six suspects. Five, really, if you don’t count the wife.”

Sonny looked surprised. “You don’t think she’s good for it?”

Rafael shook his head contemplatively. “No. She definitely wanted her husband dead, but I don’t think she was willing to kill him.” Sonny didn’t look convinced and Rafael sighed. “Call it me trusting my gut, Detective.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” Sonny said with a grin, leaning in to kiss Rafael lightly. “But that sounds like a plan. I’ll go escort Jason to his room and then try to get some sleep. You...well, just try to keep ‘em talking, I guess. Luckily you’re the conversationalist among us.”

Rafael gave him a look. “You know there’s nothing I hate more than small talk,” he grumbled, giving Sonny a quick peck on the corner of his mouth before pushing him lightly in the direction of Jason’s office. “Now go. I’ll wake you up when it’s dinner time.”

Sonny backed slowly away, grinning. “Maybe a few minutes before dinner time?” he suggested.

Rafael’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t press your luck,” he warned, and when Sonny just laughed, added, “Sleep well. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Sonny told him, before turning and heading to Jason’s office.

Rafael shook his head and ventured in the direction of the main hall, figuring it the most likely meeting place, despite the painted warning that had been left there. Sure enough, nearly everyone was gathered there, mostly speaking quietly amongst themselves, though Julie and Cheryl brightened when they saw him. “Rafael!” Cheryl called, gesturing for him to join them. “We were just talking about you.”

“Only bad things, I hope,” Rafael said with a wry smile as he approached.

“We figured you’d want in on our plans for the afternoon,” Julie told him, something like amusement quirking the corners of her mouth.

Rafael raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?” he said mildly. “And what did you have in mind to pass the time? I’m excellent at charades, though my pictionary skills leave a bit to be desired.”

Cheryl laughed. “We had a slightly different idea,” she hedged.

“We’re all going to get absolutely drunk and pretend this weekend never happened,” Julie said bluntly.

Rafael blinked. He looked slowly around the room at everyone assembled, all of whom had a slightly grim look of agreement on their faces. “Well in that case,” he said, sitting down on the couch, “pour me a glass.”

* * *

 

One glass turned into two, turned into six, and Rafael lost count after that. His original rationale for day-drinking had been lowered inhibitions, which meant an easier interrogation, but he hadn’t counted on Julie’s rather generous pours throwing him off his plan of drinking slightly less than everyone else.

Stacy had excused herself after half a glass with a muttered excuse about hair of the dog not working for her, and Katie had passed out on the loveseat after a half-dozen vodka shots in quick succession, but everyone else was still awake and at least somewhat coherent.

Rafael tossed back the contents of his most recent glass and waved Mike over. “Come, sit,” he commanded. “Tell me about your case.”

Mike made a face, even as he staggered over and dropped down next to Rafael. “You wanna talk about boring stuff like that?” he whined.

“For me, the law is anything but boring,” Rafael pronounced primly, ruining the moment by giggling.

Mike laughed too, even though Rafael was certain he didn’t know why, and Angela perched on the couch arm, her lips pursed disapprovingly as she looked at them both. “He’s going to fight it, right, baby?” she said, rubbing her husband’s shoulder. “The evidence was illegally obtained.”

Rafael glanced up, interest piqued. “What evidence?” he asked.

Mike rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “They, uh, they got a recording of me,” he said.

“And you say it was illegally obtained?” Rafael asked, glancing up at Angela for confirmation. “Where did the conversation about the bribe allegedly take place? You may have a reasonable expectation of privacy argument on your side.”

Despite himself and his avowed hatred for most defense attorneys, Rafael found himself warming slightly to the conversation, the legality giving his stressed to the breaking point nerves something else to focus on.

Mike nodded. “That’s what my attorney said,” he told Rafael. “And it took place — um, allegedly took place, I mean — in the men’s room at the clubhouse.”

Rafael closed his eyes and slowly counted to ten to avoid making a comment he’d regret. “So you were in a public place,” he said, as patiently as he could manage.

“Nuh-uh, the clubhouse’s only open to members,” Mike told him patronizingly, and Rafael gritted his teeth.

“Yes, but the bathroom is open to any member to use, correct?”

Mike cocked his head slightly. “Well, the male ones at least.”

Rafael rolled his eyes. “Meaning you’ve shot your reasonable expectation argument to shit,” he sighed. “Were you aware that there was anyone else in the bathroom with you?”

Angela was glancing between Rafael and Mike, her eyes narrowed, and Mike just shook his head, his eyes wide. “Well, I knew someone was in the stall, but how was I supposed to know it was the sheriff?”

Rafael pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to want to take a plea on this,” he said with another sigh, and when Angela looked like she was going to protest, he added, “Trust me. I would tear you apart in two questions on the stand and a lesser attorney could do it in five. When that happens, you’ve got no leverage.”

"Even with the sheriff gone?" Mike asked, and when Rafael raised an eyebrow at him, he held up his hands defensively. "Not that I, you know, planned for that or anything." He let out a nervous laugh, one that neither Rafael nor his wife returned. "I just meant, y'know, hypo—hypo— y'know, in theory."

"Hypothetically, the sheriff's testimony before the Grand Jury would be admissible in court just as if he was there testifying in person," Rafael said dryly. He looked back at Mike. “Who’s defending you?”

“Uh…”

“Someone from the firm your business uses?” Rafael guessed. “Fire them. Hire a criminal defense attorney. Here—” he dug his wallet out of his pants pocket and pulled out a card, handing it to Mike. “Give my friend Rita a call — she’s a partner at SSK.” At their blank looks, he added, “One of the top criminal defense firms in Manhattan. Tell her I referred you and she’ll get you set up with someone who can negotiate a deal.”

Mike gave him a tentative smile. “Thanks,” he said, tucking the card into his pocket. “I’ll do that. First thing Monday.” He paused. “Do you...do you think I can avoid going to jail?”

“Assuming you can repay the bribe and any relevant fine, you’ll probably get off with probation,” Rafael told him, still dry. “We tend not to throw the book at first time white collar offenders — though for the life of me, I can’t figure out why not.”

Mike laughed, but it was short-lived as he saw the glare his wife was giving Rafael, who seemed to have understood his meaning far more than he did. “Right,” Mike said, slowly getting to his feet and almost falling over in the process. “I need a refill. Anyone else?”

He glanced around, and Rafael nodded before looking over at Julie and Cheryl, who were leaning contentedly against the back of the other couch. “We’re good,” Julie told him with a sigh. “We brought our own.”

She held up what Rafael could only assume was a pot brownie before taking a big bite. Angela sniffed in apparent disgust before flouncing off to join her husband. “Stick like that up her ass? That girl needs this more than I do,” Julie mumbled through the brownie and both Rafael and Cheryl laughed.

Cheryl gave Rafael a tentative smile. “I’m sure you don’t approve,” she said. “I mean, as a law enforcement official, you probably have a less than favorable opinion on marijuana.”

“As a person of color, I have a less than favorable opinion on the disproportionate treatment of men of color for minor cannabis-related offenses,” Rafael corrected. “But if it weren’t for his job, I’d tell Sonny to get his medical card in a heartbeat.”

“Anxiety?” Cheryl guessed.

Rafael shook his head. “PTSD,” he said, a little grimly.

Julie winced. “I’ve seen a lot of that in my line of work,” she said. “Both when I was in the Army and once I got out. And since it’s not like your own line of work is any less stressful, I would imagine you need this more than I do.”

She offered the last brownie to Rafael, who hesitated. “I really shouldn’t,” he hedged.

“But you will,” Julie said with a grin.

“But I will,” Rafael said, grabbing the brownie and taking a bite. “I _am_ technically on vacation, after all. And we’re all likely suffering from some PTSD symptoms after witnessing a murder.”

Cheryl laughed. “However you want to justify it, go for it,” she said, resting her head against Julie shoulder.

Rafael took another bite of brownie. “So what did Brian have against pot and prescription drugs from Canada?” he asked. “Sounds to me like you both were just doing a public service.”

Julie scowled. “That’s what I said,” she grumbled. “But Brian seemed to think it would attract the ‘wrong type of people’ to our community. As if anyone in their right mind would come live out here.”

“Didn’t you move out here after you quit your job?” Rafael asked mildly.

“Yeah, but who said I was in my right mind?” Julie asked with a laugh.

“Fair enough,” Rafael said with a laugh that sounded a little too close to a giggle to his own ears. “But you were close with Brian and Stacy, weren’t you?”

Julie nodded. “We had them over for dinner pretty frequently,” she confirmed. “Someone—” She pinched her wife lightly and Cheryl scowled and batted her hand away. “—seemed to think it would be a good thing to get law enforcement on our side. See how well that worked out for us.”

“And are either of you facing any serious time for what you’ve been charged with?” Rafael asked.

“Julie almost did,” Cheryl said with a yawn, “because she didn’t want to take the plea deal on principle.” Rafael glanced at Julie, who seemed almost smug. Rafael smiled slightly, because he knew that Sonny would do the exact same thing — and he had a feeling that if they asked, Sonny would say that Rafael would refuse to take a plea deal as well. “But I talked her into it. We both got off with time served and probation.”

Rafael nodded slowly, and couldn’t seem to stop his head from continuing to nod. His head felt simultaneously too heavy, like a bowling ball, and yet too light, like a balloon. “Oh, sorry,” Cheryl said with a giggle, and Rafael’s head lolled to the side as he tried to look at her. “I should’ve warned you — Julie makes the brownies a bit on the strong side.”

“Ah,” Rafael said vaguely, staring at the massive moose head hanging on the wall. “That...would explain a lot.”

Cheryl stood, looking a little concerned. “I’m gonna go get you some water,” she said.

Rafael nodded again. “I’d join you, but I can’t seem to move,” he said, unable to stop himself from giggling at his own pathetic attempts to stand up. Cheryl laughed as well before disappearing toward the kitchen.

Rafael found himself continuing to stare up at the massive moose head that adorned the wall in front of it. He had never really considered how fascinating moose were...though maybe that was just the marijuana talking.

Either way, before Cheryl could reappear, Rafael felt someone press a kiss to the top of his head and he turned to look up at Sonny, who looked bemused. “Sonny!” Rafael said happily, and Sonny looked almost concerned, his brow furrowing.

“You didn’t wake me up for dinner,” he said. “I got worried.”

Rafael blinked. “Not dinner time yet,” he said stupidly. “It’s only…”

He raised his wrist as if to check his watch, only to remember he wasn’t wearing a watch, and Sonny let out a cough that sounded more like a hastily-disguised laugh. “Babe, you’ve apparently been staring at the moose head for three hours,” Sonny told him patiently. “Cheryl came and got me, told me you ate an extra strength pot brownie.”

Rafael stared up at him. “I’m stoned,” he said, almost surprised.

Sonny snorted. “Yeah, you are. Like, really fucking stoned.”

Rafael glanced back at the moose. “Huh,” he said contemplatively.

This time, Sonny didn’t even try to hide his laughter as he hauled Rafael to his feet. “C’mon,” he said, putting an arm around Rafael’s waist to keep him upright. “I’m taking you to bed.”

“Mmm, is that a promise, Detective?” Rafael asked as Sonny half-carried him to their room. “Because I’ve been a bad boy and I might need you to lock me up—”

He turned and put his arms around Sonny’s neck, closing the space between them before leaning in for a kiss. Sonny kissed him for just a moment before pulling away. “Nice try, Raf, but you’re crossfaded and in no position to consent right now.”

He deposited Rafael on the bed and Rafael scowled up at him, grabbing one of his hands to hold him in place. “You always have my consent,” he told Sonny with his most charming smile.

“And that’s a conversation to have a later point in time,” Sonny said with a sigh, swatting Rafael’s hand away as he reached for Sonny’s pants zipper. “Besides, even if you did consent, that doesn’t mean that I do.”

Rafael scowled but even when stoned and drunk knew better than to press the issue. “Fine,” he sighed, crawling on top of the bed and curling up with a pout. “Spoilsport.”

“Love you, too, Raf,” Sonny laughed. “You gonna sleep with your clothes on?”

“Maybe,” Rafael said petulantly. “Unless you wanna take them off me.”

Sonny rolled his eyes and leaned in to kiss Rafael’s forehead. “Again, nice try,” he murmured. “But I don’t think so.” He straightened. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Rafael hummed in agreement, his eyes already half-closed, and he heard Sonny turn and head to turn off the light. “Sonny?”

Sonny paused. “Yeah, Raf?”

“Love you.”

“I love you, too.” There was no mistaking the fondness in Sonny’s voice, and Rafael felt it drift over him like a warm blanket. “Sleep well.”

Rafael was asleep before Sonny even flipped the lightswitch.


	10. Sunday Morning

“Good morning, sunshine.”

Rafael opened his eyes and instantly regretted it, squeezing them closed again and groaning. “Oh God,” he managed, and he heard Sonny laugh lightly next to him.

“How’re you feeling?”

Rafael slowly opened and closed his mouth, trying desperately to swallow around the cottony dryness. “Like a small animal took refuge in my mouth overnight,” he mumbled, and Sonny again laughed.

“There’s water on the nightstand if you can roll over and grab it,” he told Rafael, who cracked one eye open to glare at him.

“I would literally rather die,” he said, his voice scratchy, though after a long moment, he did manage to roll over and fumble for the glass of water. Instead, his hand closed on something else, something much warmer, and he instantly brightened. “You brought me coffee?”

Sonny reached over him to smack his hand lightly. “Water first, then coffee,” he scolded, but his tone was gentle.

Rafael made a pitiful noise but still dutifully gulped down the water before again reaching for the coffee, taking far too large a sip and not particularly caring that some of it dripped down his chin. “That is disgusting,” Sonny informed him, before leaning in and kissing said coffee dribbles off of his chin.

“Pot meet kettle,” Rafael rasped before sitting up properly and taking a slower, slightly more measured sip of coffee.  

Sonny shrugged. “Call a spade a spade,” he said cheerfully, sitting crosslegged on the bed and pulling Rafael’s feet into his lap. “So did you learn anything new yesterday?”

Rafael squinted, then shook his head. “Not that I remember, though I’ll be honest — I don’t really remember much of yesterday.”

“The drinking and the illicit substances will do that to you,” Sonny said dryly.

“You say that in a way that makes me think you disapprove,” Rafael said mildly, arching an eyebrow at Sonny as he took another sip of coffee. “Need I remind you of the time when you were caught smoking a joint behind church when you were an altar boy? I never did thank your sister for telling me that story.”

“And if I ever find out which sister it was who told you, she’s dead to me. Besides, I was a kid, not an adult who should know better, and I also wasn’t trapped in a house with a murderer on the loose,” Sonny told him.

Rafael sighed heavily. “It wasn’t like there was some kind of valuable information to obtain yesterday. Assuming that anyone was going to talk was a long-shot at best, and besides, if the murderer wanted to kill  me, they probably would’ve already.”

“Maybe that’s what they trying to accomplish last night.”

Sonny said it flatly but Rafael knew him well enough to read the undercurrent of concern that laced his simple words, and he took a moment to respond, because surely Sonny wasn’t suggesting— “Are you saying that the kindly old lesbians were trying to poison me via pot brownies?” Rafael asked, unable to stop the skepticism dripping from his tone.

Sonny had the decency to flush, just slightly. “I mean, when you put it like that, I know how it sounds—”

Rafael snorted derisively. “Yeah, pretty much.” He gave Sonny a look. “What, has Liv been punishing you by making you catalogue all the D.A.R.E. stuff from the 90s again?”

“But in my defense,” Sonny continued, ignoring him, even though his blush deepened at the reminder of one of the worst assignments he’d been given to date, “it would be the perfect cover. At the very least, the fact that they were trying to get you stoned is a little suspicious. Like maybe you were digging a little too deeply, or asking the wrong questions.”

Rafael rolled his eyes. “They weren’t trying to get me stoned,” he said impatiently. “I was trying to get myself stoned. And I succeeded, I might add.”

“Which doesn’t change the fact that I’d rather you didn’t decide to dabble in weed when there’s a killer we’re still trying to find.”

“Fine,” Rafael sighed, and drained his coffee. “Now that the after school special portion of the morning is done, can we get back to the business of catching said killer or else getting the fuck off this godforsaken mountain?”

Sonny cleared his throat. “Well, while you were sleeping it off last night, I was still doing some investigating.”

He sounded inordinately pleased with himself and Rafael scowled. “And?” he prompted.

“And I got nothing.”

Rafael snorted. “Great.”

Sonny sighed. “There’s got to be some angle we haven’t thought of yet.” Rafael was silent and Sonny glanced at him. “C’mon, you gotta have something up your sleeve. At this point, there’s no such thing as a stupid idea.”

“Of course there are,” Rafael scoffed. “I’ve had to field enough of them from your team over the years.”

Sonny rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean,” he huffed. “C’mon, what’re we missing?”

Rafael shrugged, wincing as the movement made his headache twinge. “Well, we’ve considered the means, motive and opportunity for our potential suspects and have come up short on that front or any other evidence. What else is there?”

Sonny fell into a brooding silence, automatically rubbing Rafael’s feet, and Rafael sighed contentedly, closing his eyes and almost dozing off. Then, abruptly, Sonny stopped, and Rafael opened one eye. “Problem?” he asked.

“What if we were wrong about the motive?” Sonny asked.

Rafael stared at him. “Ok…” he said slowly. “So what motive did you have in mind?”

“The sheriff’s character,” Sonny said excitedly, and Rafael blinked in confusion. “For the murder mystery.”

It took a moment for Rafael’s hungover mind to fully catch up. “What, like you think someone was acting out the murder in the murder mystery?” he asked skeptically. “But the sheriff wasn’t the victim, you—“ He broke off, his words dying in his throat because the thought of someone hitting the sheriff instead of Sonny probably shouldn’t make him feel as relieved as it did.

Sonny winced in understanding but also shook his head. “I wasn’t originally supposed to be the victim, though,” he said earnestly. “Jason stole the story from a murder mystery game from like a decade ago, and the sheriff’s character was originally supposed to die. What if that’s what our murderer was going after?”

“Ok, but the only people who knew the sheriff’s character was originally supposed to die would be you and Jason,” Rafael pointed out. “And you both have pretty solid alibis — unless there’s something you want to confess.” Sonny have him a look and Rafael smirked. “You sure?” he said, his tone turning playful. “I can speak to the DA, try to get you a sweet deal…”

Sonny scowled and pushed Rafael’s feet off of his lap. “Hardy har,” he said sarcastically. “Anyone could’ve googled the characters from the game and figured it out.”

Rafael shrugged. “Fair enough,” he said, “but the question that would still remain is whether the murderer killed the sheriff because of the game or just used the game as a convenient cover.”

Sonny considered that for a moment and then sighed. “You’re right,” he said grudgingly.

“Music to my ears,” Rafael said with a smirk.

Sonny ran a hand through his hair, which was still mussed from sleep. “So where does that leave us?” he asked.

“Same place we were in yesterday,” Rafael said. “Which means perhaps it’s time to take a break from beating our heads against the proverbial wall over this.”

“Got something better to do?” Sonny asked archly.

“As a matter of fact,” Rafael said, returning his empty coffee mug to the nightstand, “while my memory of last night may be hazy, I seem to recall you turning me down for sex. And I also recall that one of my conditions to coming on this nightmare of a trip was blowjobs whenever I wanted them.”

Sonny licked his lips almost nervously. “There were some pretty clear consent issues,” he started weakly, but Rafael cut him off.

“Detective,” he said, his voice low, and Sonny’s eyes darkened at the sound. “I’m consenting now.”

This time, there was no hesitation on Sonny’s part as he moved across the bed and settled between Rafael’s spread legs, resting his hands on Rafael’s thighs. “You sure about that?” he teased, leaning in to nip lightly at Rafael’s lower lip. “Not even fifteen minutes ago you were so hungover you wanted to die. I wouldn’t want to, uh, exacerbate that.”

“I’ve heard blowjobs are remarkably curative,” Rafael said, his breath hitching just slightly as Sonny slowly ran his hands up his thighs.

Sonny laughed lightly. “Is that so?”

“Seems as good a theory to test as any,” Rafael told him before closing the space between them and kissing Sonny hungrily.

Sonny made a muffled sound against his lips that might have been more laughter, but Rafael didn’t care. He was perhaps a little too desperate after only a few days without sex, but between the stress of the situation and everything else, he deserved this.

He tugged at the hem of Sonny’s undershirt and pulled away slightly, scowling. “Why am I wearing so much more clothing than you?”

“You passed out in your clothes last night,” Sonny informed him. “But don’t worry, we can fix that.”

He popped the button on Rafael’s pants and unzipped them without so much as a flourish, but for once, Rafael didn’t mind the lack of artistry, just lifting his hips slightly so that Sonny could pull his pants down. “Shirt too?” Sonny asked, and Rafael nodded, his eyes dark with want.

This Sonny took more time with, slowly sliding his hands up the planes of Rafael’s chest as he rucked his shirt up. Rafael wordlessly lifted his arms to let Sonny pull it off and didn’t even complain when he dropped the shirt on the floor. Sonny pressed a kiss to Rafael’s shoulder before moving to Rafael’s neck, nuzzling against the scruff he hadn’t yet had a chance to shave. He nipped lightly at Rafael’s pulse point and sucked an almost languid hickey into the taut skin of his neck, right where Rafael knew it would show.

Asshole.

“Sonny, unless you know something about anatomy that I don’t, this isn’t exactly what I want you to be sucking on right now.”

Rafael hated how breathless he sounded already and he supposed be deserved the slight smirk that Sonny sent him before leaning down to suck one of his nipples. “Better?” he asked.

“Tease,” Rafael hissed, and Sonny just laughed.

He trailed slow kisses down Rafael’s stomach and Rafael tried not to tense too much, though he couldn’t help it when Sonny hit a particularly ticklish spot.

Then, finally, Sonny reached the waistband of Rafael’s briefs and he rather deliberately held eye contact with Rafael as he slowly tugged the waistband down with his teeth.

“Jesus Christ,” Rafael breathed.

“That’s blasphemy,” Sonny told him, pressing a kiss to his hip bone.

“It’s Sunday morning and I’m just saying my prayers,” Rafael countered, his voice breathy and lacking its usual punch. “And not that I don’t appreciate you taking your time, but—”

Before he could admonish Sonny to just get on with it, they were once again interrupted by a distant but distinctive BANG, and both froze. “Was that—?”

Sonny shook his head, every muscle in his body tense. “Maybe it wasn’t—” he started, but then there was a second BANG.

Followed by screams.

Sonny swore and rolled over to grab his gun off his nightstand and Rafael scrambled to stand and follow him, grabbing his shirt from the ground and tugging it on as he did.

For once Sonny didn’t bother arguing with him about staying put, but Rafael assumed that had more to do with lack of time than anything else. He was still going to count it as a victory. 

Sonny moved swiftly but carefully, his gun not wavering as he cleared each room as they went, and ordinarily, Rafael would have made a comment about how ridiculous they must look, Sonny in boxers and an undershirt, gun at the ready, Rafael trailing behind him in briefs and a shirt, but he couldn’t bring himself to, his heart hammering in his chest and his throat dry in a way that had nothing to do with his hangover.

They heard a noise and both froze. “The dining room,” Rafael whispered and Sonny nodded, already heading in that direction.

When they got to the door, Sonny glanced back at Rafael, who looked at him, eyes wide. Sonny confronting killers was unfortunately nothing new in his line of work, but normally Rafael didn’t have the opportunity to say something to him before he did.

Now that he had the chance, he had no idea what to say.

Luckily, Sonny did. “I love you,” he whispered, before squaring his shoulders, turning back to the door, and pushing it open.

Both men froze at what they saw, and Angela turned her gun from where she had it pointed at her husband, who was whimpering in a prone position on the ground, to instead level it at Sonny’s chest. “I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you, Detective.”

Rafael reached instinctively to ball a hand in the back of Sonny’s shirt as if he could somehow yank him out of harm’s way, but Sonny shifted to try to shield him entirely. “Ok,” he said calmly, “let’s not do anything rash. Let’s talk about this.”

“Drop the gun and then maybe we can talk,” Angela said pleasantly, her aim not wavering. “You see, I shot the sheriff, and I’m not afraid to shoot the deputy.”

Sonny tensed, his gun already lowering slightly, but Rafael exhaled sharply, derison clear in the sound. “Are you  _ fucking _ kidding me?”


	11. The Crime Triangle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS SO LATE AND I AM SO SORRY IT'S TAKEN ME FOREVER. Hopefully it is at least somewhat worth the wait, and I deeply appreciate your patience.

“Are you  _ fucking _ kidding me?” Sonny threw him a slightly panicked  look and Rafael glared at him, holding up a warning finger. “You, do not speak. I have put up with an  _ awful _ lot this weekend, and I refuse —  _ refuse _ — to let this be how things end.”

“Rafael,” Sonny hissed in a strangled voice, but Rafael ignored him.

“What part of  _ do not speak _ do you not understand?” he snapped. “Seriously. The only thing you have done this weekend is drag me here, where there is no cell service but ample crime, under the premise of unlimited blowjobs that you have yet to deliver, so unless you have something constructive to add to the conversation—”

Sonny didn’t look at him. “Well sorry I’m a little occupied at the moment, babe, but give me ten minutes and maybe I can do something about that.”

Rafael gave him a scathing look but Angela beat him to it. “Ten minutes?” she repeated, the amusement in her voice just on this side of hysterical. “You really think this is going to be over so quickly?”

“You tell me,” Sonny said evenly. “You’re the one who controls what happens here today.”

Rafael made a disparaging noise in his throat. “Really?” he demanded. “That’s really how you want to play this? When this whole weekend—”

“Counselor.”

Sonny’s voice was firm, controlled, and lacking all normal warmth, and Rafael glanced at him. Sonny looked surprisingly calm, even as he stared unwaveringly down the barrel of his gun at Angela, who was looking between them, her eyes wide. He never called Rafael ‘counselor’ outside of work, and Rafael took it for the signal that it was — Sonny was not dealing with this as Sonny Carisi, his charming if occasionally idiotic boyfriend.

He was dealing with it as the qualified police detective that he was.

“So what do you say?” Sonny said, aimed squarely at Angela, who gripped her gun with both hands. “You want to talk or you want to shoot and get this over with? Because frankly, seeing how you shot your husband point blank and he’s still alive, I think I’ll take my chances on your aim not improving.”

Angela’s lip curled. “Is that your plan?” she asked. “To goad me into shooting at you?”

“Honestly, I’d prefer if you didn’t,” Sonny said calmly. “Mostly because I’d rather not get shot when I’m wearing the only undershirt I have left without stains on it.”

Rafael almost laughed at that, but couldn’t seem to bring himself to. “I can buy you more undershirts,” he murmured. “Fortunately or otherwise, I can’t buy another you.”

Sonny ignored him, probably for good reason. “Besides, I don’t need to goad you into anything,” he told Angela. “You shooting me won’t change what charges you’re facing. But if you want to talk, if you want to explain, that might make things easier on you.”

Personally, Rafael doubted it — killing the sheriff would’ve garnered her life in prison without possibility of parole, and besides which, based on what Mike had said last night, he assumed Angela had killed Brian to stop his testimony about the bribe, which bumped it to a federal crime, eligible for the death penalty. And in addition—

His head snapped up. He had completely forgotten about his conversation with Mike and Angela the night before, a conversation that had seemed minor at the time, but all too relevant now.

“Sonny,” he hissed, his heart thumping painfully in his chest.

“Not now, Counselor,” Sonny muttered, his shoulders tensing slightly.

But Rafael wasn’t going to be deterred. “Detective, I remember something I learned last night,” he said, falling back on formality, despite the absurdity of it when he was standing at a crime scene in his underwear. “Something I imagine is quite pertinent to what’s going on here.”

Sonny nodded, just slightly, even as he addressed his words at Angela. “You ok with hearing him out?” he asked politely, and even though Rafael knew that he was just trying to keep things as de-escalated as possible, it still rankled him that Sonny would ask Angela’s permission for him to talk.

Angela smirked. “I can’t imagine what he thinks he learned last night, between the scotch and the marijuana. If you want to draw this out, I say go right ahead.”

Rafael could tell by the way a muscle twitched in Sonny’s cheek that he was trying not to roll his eyes. Luckily, Rafael had no such compunction, rolling his eyes before telling them both with just a touch of impatience, “Brian was the main witness in the case against Mike.”

Something darkened in Angela’s expression but Sonny just frowned slightly. “So?” he asked.

“So, Mike is dumber than a box of rocks, as evidenced by accepting a bribe in public with witnesses present,” Rafael said, glancing down at Mike. “No offense.”

Angela kicked her husband and the man moaned pitifully. "Oh, accepting a bribe is just the latest in a long line of truly idiotic things that he's done," she assured Rafael, with a hysterical edge to her voice. "He could've retired at age 30 and we would have been set for the rest of our lives, but  _ no _ , he had to go and lose our entire life savings in the stock market!"

Mike coughed wetly. "Not...my fault," he managed, whimpering when Angela stomped down on his fingers.

Sonny flinched at the noise Mike made, but his grip didn’t waver. “Ok, so Mike’s not the brightest. But what—”

“Someone got it in their head that getting rid of the sheriff would make the evidence go away,” Rafael said. “Now, you and I both know that’s not how the legal system works, but most people wouldn’t know that, so Mike’s absolved of that particular stupidity. But orchestrating this entire thing to make sure the sole witness couldn’t testify — tell me, Detective, do you think he could’ve pulled that off?”

Sonny’s expression evened out as realization hit. “No,” he said calmly. “No, I don’t imagine he could. His wife, on the other hand…”

He trailed off, and Angela scowled at both of them. “So what?” she challenged. “You already know I shot him. This doesn’t prove anything else.”

“Proves intent,” Sonny said. “Motive.”

“Preemptively disproves an insanity plea,” Rafael muttered.

Angela’s scowl deepened. “And I suppose this is where you expect me to walk you through how I did it, like some comic book villain revealing their master plan?”

“It’s cute that you think what you had was a master plan,” Rafael told her.

Again, Sonny seemed only barely able to refrain from rolling his eyes, and Rafael knew that if he could’ve taken his eyes off of Angela, he would’ve glared at him. “I’m sure what Rafael means to say is that we’ve actually worked most of it out,” he told Angela. “Or at least I have. You get invited to a weekend party, you find out who else is gonna be there, you realize that it’s as good a time as any, especially since everyone else also had motive—”

“Everyone in this fucking town had reason to want Brian dead,” Angela hissed.

“—and with everyone having motive, it’d be pretty hard to figure out who did it. Especially since, even if there wasn’t a winter storm this weekend, by the time the state police got up here, you’d have ample time to ditch the gun.” He paused. “Assuming you didn’t use a gun registered to you or your husband.”

Angela’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’m that stupid?”

“I really don’t,” Sonny told her, while Rafael bit back his immediate reaction of ‘Yes, absolutely’. “I actually think it was a pretty good plan. I can’t work out how you got the lights to go out, though.”

“Automatic timer,” Angela said smugly. “Set it up in the utility room off the kitchen while everyone else was freshening up before dinner.”

“Of course,” Sonny said, nodding. “”That’s why Colette said that she didn’t see anyone go in or out of the side door off the kitchen. You didn’t leave the house, but she did see you sneaking around where you shouldn’t have been.”

Angela scowled again. “Stupid French bitch,” she muttered. “I didn’t think anyone had seen me.”

“To be fair, she didn’t identify you,” Sonny told her with a sigh. “Though it’d’ve saved us a lot of time if she had.” He adjusted his grip on his gun,  the first sign of discomfort he had shown, and Rafael flashed him a concerned look. But he still looked calm and in control and Rafael allowed himself to relax, just slightly. “You know what I can’t figure out, though? You loved Brian, right? You dated in high school, and I kinda got the feeling you weren’t over it.”

Something tightened in Angela’s expression. “You mean that bitch Stacy assumed I never got over it,” she snapped. “I got over it just fine.”

“Did you?”

Sonny didn’t ask the question accusatorily, but Angela nonetheless flinched. “I thought he was the love of my life,” she said coldly. “But that was a long time ago.”

“I get that,” Sonny said. “Time heals a lot of things. But even with as much as I may not like some of my exes, I don’t think I could bring myself to kill any of them.”

Angela shook her head, but it was Rafael who answered, still lurking half-behind Sonny. “You never got over him taking the money from your father not to date you,” he said, and Angela’s eyes flashed to him. “Right?”

“Daddy didn’t think that he was good enough for me,” she said, a whine creeping into her voice.

“And then Brian went and busted your husband for the same exact thing he did back in the day,” Rafael continued.  “So this wasn’t just about getting him out of the way for Mike’s trial. This was about revenge.”

"Brian traded me for an easy payday," Angela said viciously. "I figured why not do the same?"

“Only it hasn’t quite proven to be that easy of a payday, has it?” Rafael asked, a slightly taunting edge to his voice as he stepped fully out from behind Sonny.

This was just another cross-examination with another idiot criminal.

Rafael could do this in his sleep.

To her credit, Angela kept her gun trained on Sonny, correctly gauging him as the bigger threat between the two, but her eyes followed Rafael as he paced around the narrow space not occupied by Mike’s body or spreading pool of blood.

“Because that’s why you shot your husband,” Rafael continued, laying it out plainly. “When you realized that killing Brian didn’t do anything to stop Mike going to jail, only one option remained.”

“What, killing him as an act of mercy?” Sonny asked skeptically.

“No,” Rafael said. “She never cared about what happened to Mike. It came down to one thing, as it always does: money. If Mike goes to jail, the state seized his assets. With him out of the way before a conviction, assets go to his next of kin.”

Sonny snorted. “Yeah, up until the state seizes them from his murderer.”

“I didn’t say it was foolproof,” Rafael said. “Nothing in her entire plan has been foolproof, and made far worse by an actual cop being here.” He glanced at Sonny, sharing a knowing look with him as he took a few measures steps away, purposefully casual. “Which, as should surprise no one, means that once again, everything this weekend is entirely your fault.”

“My fault?” Sonny repeated, incredulous. “I swear to god if you bring up blowjobs again—“

“It was what I was promised,” Rafael shot back. “In addition to, you know, a relaxing weekend away. Hell, I even half thought you might use this opportunity to propose.”

Sonny cleared his throat, a slight pink tinge in his cheeks. “Well, uh, actually…”

Rafael blinked. “What, seriously?” he asked, incredulous, because he hadn’t really meant it.

Sonny shrugged, and Rafael got the sense that were he not aiming a gun right now, he would hold his hands up defensively. “Check the front pocket of my bag,” he said with a weak sort of chuckle. “I, uh, I didn’t really think now was the time—“

“For once, Detective, your instincts were right,” Rafael said, somewhat blankly, still staring at Sonny, whose blush deepened.

“You were the one who brought it up,” he muttered, and Rafael just shook his head before finally looking back at Angela.

He cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, a little gruffly, “since Sonny might not have screwed  _ everything _ up this weekend, looks like the blame for ruining my weekend is back squarely on you.”

“You know,” Angela said contemplatively, “I was planning on shooting the detective first, but after all that, I think I’ll enjoy killing you much more.”

She turned the gun to aim it at Rafael, who had just enough time to smirk before—

_ BANG. _

Rafael exhaled shakily as Angela collapsed to the ground and Sonny lowered his gun, his expression grim as he stepped forward to make sure his shot hit true. He didn’t need to check much; Angela’s eyes stared blankly ahead as blood pooled rapidly around her.

Sonny sighed and crossed himself before reaching out for Rafael, who took his hand and squeezed it. “It was a good shoot,” he said softly.

“I know,” Sonny said, a little bleakly. “Good call getting her to point the gun at you.”

“I’m just sorry it came to it,” Rafael said honestly.

Sonny sighed again. “Me too.” He presses a kiss to the top of Rafael’s head. “We gotta get help for Mike, something to stop the bleeding, see if anyone’s got any medical experience…”

He trailed off and Rafael nodded. “Got it.”

He turned to go but Sonny didn’t let go of his hand, holding him in place. “I meant it, y’know,” he said.

“What?” 

“Front pocket of my bag.”

Rafael barked a laugh and shook his head. “Not the time,” he told him, squeezing his hand. “Definitely not the time.”


	12. The End of the Whole Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know where to begin with thanking people. This fic has been such a labor of love and despair, something right in my comfort zone of what I like to read but so far out of my comfort zone of what I typically write. I am appreciative beyond words for everyone's patience as I lost the motivation to finish this for a few months, and especially for AHF and STS, who never stopped supporting me even through months of whining and ranting. And thanks, of course, to everyone who's read this along the way, to everyone who encouraged this from the beginning or just joined in. I hope you all have enjoyed reading this as much as I've — grudgingly, at least — enjoyed writing it.

With the murderer uncovered and neutralized, things fell into place suspiciously quickly. Julie was summoned to help stabilize Mike, and no sooner had she looked up at Sonny and said, a little grimly, “We need to get him to a hospital”, than three squad cars arrived at the house, sirens blaring.

Apparently, the roads had been cleared and while Sonny and Rafael were facing off against Angela, Jason had realized that cell service had been restored.

One of the squad cars took Mike, since waiting on an ambulance didn’t seem prudent, and the remaining troopers looked from Angela’s body to Sonny, who was standing, still dressed in just his boxers and undershirt, next to his gun, which he had disassembled and set on the table in the dining room next to his badge. “We’ve got some questions for you,” one of them told him, and Sonny had the good grace not to roll his eyes.

Rafael, who had returned to their room to grab some proper clothes while Sonny stayed with Julie and Mike, did roll his eyes before telling the troopers, “I was with him when it happened.”

“Then we’ll have some questions for you, too,” another trooper told him, and Rafael couldn’t help but roll his eyes again at that, though he managed to bite back his retort. Mostly, anyway.

The troopers decided to start with Sonny, which was probably a wise choice, and politely but firmly ordered everyone else out of the room. Rafael didn’t move though, looking evenly at Sonny. “You should have a lawyer present,” he said. “Not to mention your association rep.”

“Sir,” the trooper next to Rafael said impatiently, grabbing him by the elbow, “you’re going to need to leave.”

Rafael looked coldly at the man’s hand on his elbow until he dropped it. “I’m an Assistant District Attorney for New York County,” he said, squaring his shoulders as he glared at the troopers. “This man is entitled to an attorney and his association rep before you ask him any questions.”

“Raf,” Sonny said, sounding torn between amusement and exasperation, “it’s fine.” Rafael’s eyes narrowed but Sonny’s expression didn’t change. “It was a good shoot. And I have nothing to hide.”

“Lawyering up doesn’t mean you did anything wrong,” Rafael reminded him, unnecessarily so.

“But the perception carries more weight than that,” Sonny countered with a small half-smile. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

Rafael hesitated for only a moment more before finally leaving, throwing one last look over his shoulder as he did. He was man enough to admit that he had wanted to stay half for his own benefit; he hated the idea of Sonny being interrogated as if he were the criminal and not the woman who had killed a sheriff and tried to kill her own husband. But the final glance he had gotten of Sonny was somewhat reassuring at least — Sonny looked strangely at ease standing there barefoot in his boxers with his arms crossed in front of his chest as he waited patiently for the troopers to start their questioning.

“So what’s going on?” Jason asked worriedly as the troopers closed the dining room door, and everyone looked expectantly at Rafael, who realized he should have seen this coming.

He took a deep breath. “Well,” he said, “Angela killed Brian, and then shot her husband, and then Sonny shot her.”

“I never liked her,” Katie said instantly, and other chimed in all saying something to that effect, each nodding in self-satisfaction as if they should have known all along.

Rafael just sighed and slunk away to his room as they all talked animatedly amongst themselves. He suddenly felt exhausted, and wondered if he might be able to fit a nap in before the troopers had to question him.

He perched on the edge of the bed and yawned. He was about to reach over to grab his phone now that he might actually have service, since at the very least, and despite Sonny’s inevitable protests, he should let Liv know what had happened this weekend, when he caught sight of Sonny’s duffel bag sitting innocuously next to the dresser.

For a moment, he debated leaving it be, but after the weekend he’d had, Rafael figured he deserved this. Especially since dragging him out here had been Sonny’s idea in the first place.

So he crossed over the bag and knelt down to unzip the front pocket, holding his breath as he did.

Sure enough, nestled in the small pocket was a ring box, and Rafael grinned as he pulled it out. “I’ll be damned,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly.

He thought about opening it and looking at the ring inside, but thought better of it.

Some things deserved to be left as a surprise for when the time was right.

Especially since it wasn’t like Rafael had to think about what his answer was going to be.

He put the ring back into the pocket and zipped it closed before heading back to the bed and lying down, staring contemplatively up at the ceiling. Sure, there had been a murder and a second attempted murder, and yes, Rafael had not gotten any of the blowjobs that Sonny had promised, and, yes, Sonny had had a gun pointed at him and Rafael had as well, but all things considered, he couldn’t help but feel like maybe the weekend wasn’t as bad as he had thought it was going to be.

Though that may just have been the last remnants of adrenaline talking.

At the very least, he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

 

He was woken rather rudely and all too quickly by a trooper shaking him by the shoulder. “Mr. Barba?” the trooper said in clipped tones. “We’re ready for you.”

Rafael rubbed his eyes as he sat up, blinking and looking past the trooper at Sonny, who stood in the doorway of the room, looking bemused. “I wanted to be the one to wake you,” Sonny told him, “but we’re, uh, not supposed to talk to each other until you’re questioned.”

“Detective,” the trooper sighed, but he didn’t sound too upset, which Rafael took as a sign that Sonny’s questioning had gone as well as it could.

Rafael looked back at Sonny as he stood. “Everything good?” he questioned, ignoring the trooper who sighed again. Sonny just smiled slightly and winked, pausing to kiss Rafael’s forehead before letting the trooper escort Rafael out of the bedroom and back towards the dining room.

All things considered, Rafael’s interrogation was routine to the point of banality. Most of the questions they asked were simple yes or no questions, mostly just to verify that he backed up Sonny’s version of the story. Which he did, mainly because it was the truth. He had to believe that the troopers believed Sonny and were just dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s by talking to him, because otherwise they were horrendously incompetent for not making him recount the story in his own words to see if they could catch one or both of them in a lie.

When he was released from interrogation — “Am I free to go?” he couldn’t help but ask snarkily as they neared the end of their questions, “Or am I being detained without being Mirandized?” — he made a beeline for his room, startling Sonny, who was just buttoning his shirt.

“Hey,” Sonny said, surprised. “Done already?”

“They didn’t really have many real questions for me,” Rafael told him. “Which is all the better for us. You can stop that now.”

Sonny’s fingers paused in their movement. “Stop what?”

“Buttoning that shirt,” Rafael said, pulling his own shirt off and dropping it on the ground. “Take it off.”

“What? Why?” Sonny asked blankly.

Rafael glared at him. “Because you owe me, and because they still need to talk to all the other people here. Which means that until you’re cleared and we can actually get out of this hellhole, you can finally, _finally_ start paying up.”

Sonny blinked. “No.”

“No?” Rafael repeated, a dangerous edge to his voice. “What the hell do you mean, no?”

Sonny held his hands up defensively. “I mean, every time you and I have tried to do this this weekend, someone or something has interrupted. And I do not wanna drive the entire way back to Manhattan sporting a semi and tempted to let you actually give me road head.”

“As if I would deign to give you what you owe me,” Rafael said frostily, bending to pick his shirt up off the floor. “But seriously, for once I think we’re in the clear. Between the other guests and the staff, there’s no way that it’ll take less than at a minimum twenty minutes and considering that I’ve been on a hair trigger since about Friday afternoon, I sincerely doubt that I’ll last any longer than—”

He was cut off by a knock on the door, and one of the state troopers poked his head in. “Det. Carisi, you’re needed again.”

Rafael let out a low groan and Sonny laughed lightly. “Should I bring my attorney?” he joked, his smile not fading at the withering look Rafael shot him.

“Just try and stop me,” he hissed as he pulled his shirt back on.

The trooper glanced between the two of them. “Uh, I don’t see why not?” he said, pitching it like a question and looking slightly baffled as Sonny brushed past him, Rafael close behind.

Still, despite Rafael’s irritation, he nonetheless grabbed Sonny’s hand as they walked toward the dining room, squeezing it lightly in an unspoken show of support.

Whatever waited for Sonny in that room, whatever the troopers had to say, they would face it together.

They always would.

“Det. Carisi,” the troop commander said in a calm manner that almost bordered on bored, “our preliminary investigation shows justification for the discharge of your firearm. Therefore, you’re free to go for the moment. We’ll get in touch if we have any follow up concerns.”

Rafael let out a breath that it felt like he’d been holding since Friday evening. “Thank God,” he sighed, squeezing Sonny’s hand as he looked up at him.

Sonny gave him a slightly wry smile. “You sound like you were worried.”

“I tend to worry when my moronic partner subjects himself to a custodial interrogation without an attorney present,” Rafael said dryly.

“You forget, I am an attorney,” Sonny said, just slightly smug.

“How can I forget, when you remind me every time you think that you’ve figured out a legal maneuver that I haven’t thought of yet?”

The troop commander cleared his throat. “You, uh, you realize that you can go, right?”

He held Sonny’s gun out to him and Sonny took it. “Thank you,” he said, far more sincere than anything Rafael could’ve mustered. “I appreciate the work you guys are doing.” He glanced back down at Rafael. “You ready?”

“God, I thought you’d never ask,” Rafael sighed, a slow grin breaking across his face. “Let’s go home.”

Together they left the dining room to grab their bags and hopefully get out of there as soon as possible, but a voice called after them. “Detective, wait!”

They both paused as a trooper jogged after them. “You forgot your badge,” the trooper told him, holding his shield out to him.

“Oh, thanks,” Sonny said with a grateful smile. “My lieu would’ve fried my ass if I got back without it.”

The trooper chuckled. “The major in there is the same way,” he said, jerking his head back towards the dining room. “Figured I’d save you the dressing down.”

“And I appreciate it,” Sonny told him sincerely as he clipped his shield on his belt.

“Are you sure we can’t convince you to stay?” the trooper asked, holding his hand out for Sonny to shake. “With Brian gone, we’ll need a new sheriff. And you’ve already got a 100% closing rate on cases.”

Sonny laughed. “Thanks, but I think it would be my turn to get murdered if we stayed,” he said, giving Rafael a fond look that Rafael didn’t return. “Besides, I think I can probably do more good in the city.”

“You’d be surprised,” the trooper told him. “We get all kinds of weird crimes out here, and we just don’t have the manpower to deal with them all. So if you ever change your mind...”

He trailed off and Sonny laughed again before shaking his hand. “You’ll be my first call,” he promised.

Rafael scowled at him as the trooper returned to the dining room. “Your first call?” he asked sourly.

“He was just asking out of politeness,” Sonny told him, pulling him close and kissing his temple before looking contemplatively around the main room of the house. “Though if it weren’t for the murder we witnessed, this place might be tempting.”

Rafael snorted. “Yeah, right,” he scoffed.

Sonny shook his head. “Hey, you never know,” he said teasingly, lacing his fingers with Rafael’s. “We could retire out here, make our living solving small town murders...”

“ _You_ could retire out here,” Rafael said pointedly. “If I ever retire, there is a beach in Miami with my name on it, and no shortage of attractive, younger men.”

“Ouch,” Sonny said with a laugh. “You’d trade me in for a newer model that quickly?”

“For a beach with no murder?” Rafael asked archly. “Let’s just say I’m tempted.” He softened his words by tugging Sonny to him and kissing him. “It’d have to be a hell of a beach, though.”

* * *

 

“So,” Sonny asked as they walked slowly along the beach several months later, holding hands. “How tempted are you?”

Rafael laughed, sated by the still-humid night air and by the meal and wine they had just enjoyed at a particularly pricey Miami hotspot. “Still a little tempted,” he admitted, leaning his head against Sonny’s shoulder. “But not that tempted.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Sonny said with a chuckle, kissing the top of Rafael’s head.

“Can I ask a dumb question?” Rafael asked as they continued walking, and he took Sonny’s light laugh as a sign of tacit approval. “Why are you wearing your badge as we’re taking a romantic moonlit stroll on a beach in Miami?”

“That is a dumb question,” Sonny said, grinning, his grin only widening when Rafael elbowed him. “But, uh, technically you’re not supposed to be on the beach after sunset, so I figured in case anyone decided to hassle us, I’d bring some backup.”

He sounded inordinately proud of himself, and Rafael shook his head slowly. “So just so we’re clear here, you brought your lawyer boyfriend to join you in flouting the law and abusing your power as a police officer?”

Sonny glanced at him. “Yeah, you got a problem with that?”

“No but I’m thinking we need to find a better method of foreplay.”

Sonny laughed loudly and Rafael grinned at the carefree sound. “Foreplay is right though,” Sonny said. “‘Cause, uh, you know what’s waiting for you back at the hotel, right?” He waggled his eyebrows at Rafael, who rolled his eyes. “I mean, this whole trip is about making up what I owe you.”

Rafael’s expression softened slightly. “It’s about more than that,” he said, pulling Sonny to him and kissing him lightly.

For a moment, Sonny deepened the kiss, but then, without warning, he broke away, dropping Rafael’s hand and fumbling with something in the pocket of the khaki cargo shorts he had insisted on wearing even when Rafael threatened to break up with him. “I, uh, I know that,” he said. “It’s about a lot more than that. And, uh, I know it wasn’t the right time before, but I think it is now.”

He pulled the ring box out of his pocket, opening it to reveal the platinum band inside, inset with a diamond that glinted in the moonlight. “So,” Sonny continued, his dimples flashing as he slowly got down on one knee, “Rafael Barba, will you—”

He broke off, his smile fading slightly, and Rafael cleared his throat against the emotion that had welled in his chest. “You have to actually the say the words,” he reminded him, aiming for a gentle joke, but Sonny shook his head, staring at something behind Rafael.

“Sorry, but, uh, I think I see something.”

Without warning, he stood, shoving the ring box back in his pocket before grabbing Rafael’s hand and tugging him toward the water, though he quickly dropped his hand, breaking into a run.

By the time he caught up with him, Rafael was panting, sweaty, and deeply unhappy. “What in the hell—” he started, breaking off when Sonny dropped onto his knees on the sand, reaching out to check the pulse of the body lying half-submerged in the light waves lapping the shore

After a moment, he rocked back on his heels, shaking his head before crossing himself.

Rafael stared at the body, a mounting feeling of déjà vu creeping coldly in the pit of his stomach. He counted slowly to ten in his head to try to control his initial reaction, but in the end, the prospect of yet another vacation ruined overruled anything else, and he finally burst out, “Are you fucking kidding me?!”


End file.
